Clark Versus Lex
by Mouserocks-nerd
Summary: -UPDATED!- After Luthor discovers Superman's secret identity, he takes matters into his own hands by taking him down when he least expects it. How will his actions effect the lives of Clark Kent and those closest to him? Read and Review, Please! XD
1. Chapter 1: A Simple Phonecall

**A/N:** Hello! Okay, I meant to post this earlier, because I have a lot of it written, and I just kept writing at an insanely fast pace- even for Superman- that is until I ran straight into a brick wall. Oh well. Anyway, this is going to be a longer fic, not sure how long yet, but so far I've got about nine chapters (yay! personal pat on the back) and though I have no idea where to go from there, I know for a fact that it is not yet finished. My love affair with all things Superman continues!

Oh, by the way, I'm still somewhat new to this, and I neither have a beta nor know exactly how to acquire one. . . so the position's up for grabs if anyone is so inclined.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything remotely connected to the DC Universe, that includes Superman himself *sigh, drift into long daydream that would be awkward for readers to hear about in detail about how different my life would be if I owned Superman- I would accept owning either Brandon Routh or Dean Cain versions- STOP! back to the story! Get off of google images where you are not so slyly drooling over pictures of these men and read the epic tale below before we all end up in fantasyland. . . . Yeah. I don't think I'll be getting any rights to Superman anytime soon *pouty-face here*

Enjoy!

*****Chapter One: A Simple Phonecall*****

Clark picked up his phone at his desk nonchalantly, nearly spilling his coffee right on to his lap in the process. Fortunately he allowed himself a quick save before speaking into the receiver smoothly. "Hello? Clark Kent speaking."

"Mr. Kent, so good to hear you've returned."

The voice sent shivers running up his spine as the grip on his telephone tightened. He felt his throat close up as he tried to find the right words. "Um, th-thank you. I-I'm sorry, may I inquire as to who is speaking?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Aw, come on, Clark. You should recognize the voice of your best friend."

All of the color drained straight out of his face.

"Or is it mortal enemy now? You know, it gets hard to keep track of after so long, so many years. Why haven't you called me, _buddy_?" There was an obvious venom in his voice.

Clark managed to croak a slight "Luthor."

He was gratified by a snort of laughter at the other end of the line. "Good to know you haven't forgotten all your friends. Listen, before you hang up on me and decide to do a fly-by of the city to find me, let me just say don't bother. In fact, if I were you, I wouldn't put the phone back down on the hook, unless you can be in two places at once."

Despite the constant noise of the bullpen, to Clark everything seemed to fall silent, the only noise resounding in his ears was that of Lex Luthor's impending threat. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you see, up till now I've been playing relatively nice."

"Nice?" He snorted and lowered his voice so as no one else in the office might hear him. "A couple of days ago I woke up from a kryptonite induced coma with a mark on my back bearing your handiwork, thanks to a special dagger. What have you done that's 'nice' for me?"

"Well for one, I didn't expose you, like I should have."

"You didn't know it was me, Luthor. You're insane."

"There's where you're wrong, Clark. I've known, ever since you left, that it was you. I felt incredibly stupid, sitting there in a jail cell, waiting for my appeals case to come around, wondering how I never realized that my best friend was Superman. And still, my lips remained sealed. Why? Because I knew you'd be back. When I thought you were just Superman, I thought you'd disappeared forever, like everyone else. When I realized you were Clark Kent- I knew you'd be back. You have too many people that you care for. The only reason I haven't exposed you yet since your return was one: I was still trying to get my act together after this last stint, and two- that I actually didn't expect you to come back as Clark Kent. I thought it would be a galactically stupid move. The same day, Clark? Really? You didn't stop to think someone might catch on?"

"Why can't I put down the phone, Lex?" he asked, exasperated.

"If you do, it sets off a bomb somewhere in the city. No delay. The line goes click- the explosion goes 'boom'. Simple as that."

"What makes you think I won't go find it and stop it anyways? You've done much worse than that before."

"Oh, that's simple. That's because the second you leave to go stop that bomb, I'm gonna take control of the Daily Planet, using violent means if necessary, to get what I want. Starting with the mother of your child, then I'll work my way around the office, see who I can get to. Oh, and as far as the bomb's concerned, I also have a remote access to the triggering mechanism. Whoops."

Clark clenched his jaw tightly. "How do you know I can't stop the bomb and get back in time to save them all?"

"Simple," Lex Luthor replied. Clark could practically hear the evil grin through the receiver. "I'm already in the building."

Clark felt himself grow cold as the stark realization hit him. Lois. . . "What do you want from me, Luthor?" He spat venomously.

"I want you to get what you deserve. I want you to be in pain. Otherwise, being that I'm already in the building, I think this would be the perfect time for a little reveal, don't you think? Unless you're willing to do one of two things."

"Out with it already!"

"The first option is for you to come with me and a large quantity of my favorite mineral and you can do me a bunch of favors."

It was Clark's turn to snort. "What's behind door number two?"

"Bring me your son."

His words hung there, unbidden, unwanted and frightening.

"Go to hell, Luthor."

"Probably will. Oh well. Suit yourself. But don't hang up. You'll be hearing from me soon, Kent."

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N:** Okay, so this was a little short, but I want feedback! I'm going to be posting more chapters- perhaps in very rapid succession, some chapters together at once. The more reviews I get, the more inclined I am to write. (No kidding here- literally just one good review to one of my other stories gave me the pick me up I needed for the day- and my day had been pretty terrible!)

[for LOST fans out there]: _Push the button_.

I. WILL. NOT. BLOCK. ANONYMOUS. REVIEWS. I. WILL. NOT. RESPOND. HATEFULLY. TO. CRITICISM. *cheeky grin*

**Disclaimer #2:** In case you are wondering, yes, there is a _slight_ tip of the hat to _Smallville_ in here- but PLEASE TAKE NOTE! The ONLY thing from Smallville is the fact that Lex Luthor knew Clark Kent and was in Smallville. From there, I made up my own backstory for the two men. I don't really follow Smallville too well, since I was too young to really be into it before, and although I want to netflix all of them and waste about a month's worth of my time watching the entire series, I haven't the time to do so. So I pieced together things from my minimal knowledge of the show and from my slightly more expansive imagination in order to come up with this plotline. Willing suspension of disbelief, peoples! It will get clearer throughout.


	2. Chapter 2: Best Friends

**A/N:** Hello fine peoples! Told you I'd be uploading in rapid succession! Faster than a speeding bullet! And you all thought I was bluffing. . . Anyhoos, I didn't want to leave people with just that beginning, but I had to separate this from the last part, otherwise if it weren't all divided, people would be like, "what?" and "omg its so long and awesome, but long!" So I cater to your needs to take breaks, grab snacks, use the restroom, and get on with your lives (only slightly) through use of chapters.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Superman/Clark Kent/Kal-El. Or Lois. Or Jimmy (whose name, btw, is continually irksome for me to type- I always end up having written "JImmy" with that capitalization all funky and then going back and retyping it several times over. So I apologize for any of that in here; my fingers don't always obey my commands with regards to the keyboard.) Nor do I own DC. Or Warner Bros. Or . Whew. These things can get to be a mouthful.

*****Chapter Two: Best Friends*****

Lois had been basically wasting time at her desk, typing up random lines for her next article, then boredly pressing the backspace button until it was clear of all writing. She glanced around the bullpen, noting how occupied everybody else seemed- and sighed. Even though she had just made a stink about it a few weeks earlier, she wished Perry had put her on a Superman piece, not this fluff about animal rescue efforts in the wake of the New Krypton disaster. She sighed again. Even Clark Kent had gotten a Superman piece. And he just returned!

Taking a quick sip of her coffee, which she promptly spat out upon the discovery that it was cold, she let her eyes wander over to Clark's desk. He was always a good source for entertainment when in a pinch. She practically held her breath when his phone rang and she saw his hand come dangerously close to his cup of hot coffee- allowing herself to scowl for a moment as she watched the steam rise from it, a strong contrast from her icy cup. Much to her surprise- and mild disappointment- Clark somehow managed to single-handedly catch the cup without spilling as he picked up the phone and began to speak into it. She sighed again.

It was getting to be a very sigh-worthy day.

After only seeing him speak a few words, she noticed him stiffen. A dark, clouded expression crossed his features and he became very serious. He lowered his voice significantly as his expression continued to darken. Now _this_ was interesting, she thought to herself as she strived to figure out what could possibly drive her mild-mannered co-worker to such lengths of irritation.

She couldn't recall a time when she had ever seen Clark Kent really upset. And this looked like he was angry. Like he could punch a hole through a wall angry. She continued to observe him, intrigued. Particularly when he seemed to snap at whoever was on the other end of that phone line.

Then he grew deadly pale. He almost looked ghostly. She knew her partner to be a little jittery, and sure, he wasn't much as far as strength went, but she could never recall him looking this weak, either. Then he seemed to steel himself, and a foreign, yet familiar expression entered into his eyes and posture as he spoke his last words into the telephone.

By the looks of his silence, it seemed that the conversation was over. But he didn't put down the phone. On the contrary, Clark Kent appeared to remain rigidly frozen, his eyes being the only thing to dart around the room, searching for something. Perhaps he was on hold. _No, he seems scared, he's staying so still_.

A loud voice interrupted her from her reverie.

"LANE! KENT! MY OFFICE! NOW!"

Lois sighed and stood up, approaching her partner's desk. "Come on, Clark. Before Perry has an aneurism."

But still further to her surprise, Clark Kent did not respond, except to keep his eyes firmly ahead, on what appeared to be the elevator. She rolled her eyes and waved a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Clark? Hello, hello? Come on! Chief will have our hides if we don't get in there now."

As if to emphasize her point, Perry White's voice bellowed out for them once more, with a few added swear words, for good measure. Sighing again, Lois quickly yanked the telephone receiver out of his hands and was about to put it back down on the hook when his hand flew to stop hers, mere inches above the catch. "No!" he shouted, a panicked look in his eyes, which searched hers fearfully.

Shocked by his outburst, Lois dropped the phone. Luckily Clark was quick enough to catch it before it landed back in its place. He held it back up to his ear with a desperate look on his face. "Are you still there?" he stated cooly, supressing any panic in his voice, eyes darting back and forth. Cursing under his breath, he added "Luthor! Answer me!"

Lois practically choked at the name he pronounced and the demanding tone he was using. "Wh-What? Did you just say Luthor?" she sputtered.

Perry White stormed out of his office. "By god, you two had better have your hides in my office in less than a second before I kick you both out on the street! Dammit, Kent, you're a good reporter, but you just got back, and I don't think you're in any position to be-"

"PERRY! Can it _wait_?"

Perry White was floored. As was the rest of the office, which suddenly drifted into silence upon the realization of what just happened, and what- or more importantly, who- had just caused the commotion. The editor-in-chief struggled with his words, trying to find a way to scold Clark appropriately, but it was too astonishing that Clark had said anything at all to him for anything to come to his mind.

Meanwhile Clark turned to examining the telephone, looking for whatever Luthor or one of his people had added to act as a trigger for a bomb release. The office seemed to stand still as Clark slowly removed the plastic cover from the machine, making sure to keep the wires in tact so as not to ruin his connection with Luthor or jeapordize the entire bullpen.

Perry White could finally muster up enough to say "Excuse me?"

The second the cover was removed Clark saw the additional wiring in the system. A little red light flashed at a constant rate and Clark slowly let out a breath. At the shift in expression on Perry's face, it was obvious the man now realized the gravity of the situation. "What is that?" he asked slowly, afraid of the answer.

Clark gulped and added very little extra-shakiness to his already shaky voice. "I-I think it's a trigger," he began, not wanting to reveal too much.

"For what?" Perry added ominously.

Clark chose not to answer that as the murmurs went up around the room. Knowing he couldn't use his laser vision to fry the circuitry in front of this many people, he dug around the mug on his desk that held a bunch of supplies to grab a pair of scissors. The whole floor seemed to take in a collective deep breath as he raised them sharply yet slowly to the offending wires.

But one voice behind him stopped him.

"Careful, Mr. Kent. You never know if there might be a second trigger somewhere, or something that automatically blows up the bomb if you do cut the wires- a whole number of situations are possible."

The voice was cold and hard, like ice. Everyone shuddered, Clark Kent included, at the presence of the bald man standing behind him. Finally, opting to not turn around, Clark spoke just one word.

"Luthor."

The man chuckled. "Oh, and Lois Lane! What a coincidence. I haven't seen you since my ship got torn up. How's the boy doing? Jason, wasn't it?"

A flash of panic enterred into Lois's eyes and Clark stiffened. Lex Luthor laughed. "Oh don't worry, he's fine. He's actually doing quite swell, wouldn't you say Mr. Kent?" Clark could be seen imperceptibly squaring his jaw, as his eyes flashed with a dark emotion. He looked literally sick to the stomach.

Perry seemed to gather himself first. "Lex Luthor. What do you think you're doing here? And why don't you expect us to call the police?"

"Aw, harsh crowd. What? A guy can't come by and give a visit to his best friend without having an ulterior motive?" The silence proved he had them all stumped. "Come on, Clark, I'll buy lunch," he grinned wickedly.

He was gratified by the numerous flabbergasted expressions that surrounded him. Perry was the one who managed to keep the questions going. "Cl-Clark? As in, Kent? How do you know Clark?"

"What, did he never tell you we practically grew up together? Well golly geez, Clark," he added with a mocking tone and a wicked smile. "What _else_ have you kept from them?"

Clark seethed and finally spun around in his chair to face the offender. "Get out of here, Lex. Now. Before the police come knocking." _Or worse,_ he added with his eyes. There was no doubt to everyone present that even _if_ the two men had grown up together, they were not on good terms now. Not to mention, no one had ever heard Clark talk so firmly like that. Ever.

"Why? Did you call them? With the explosively wired phone? I don't even think _Superman_ would have the gumption. Even if someone else did call, you know you have no choice but to come with me." He cocked his head innocently at the man sitting in the chair before him. "Don't you, Clark?"

Lois had somehow acquired her voice again, though she was still rather shaken. "What good will it do you to take Clark? What's he to you?" Lex's eyes flashed dangerously as he glanced at the strong-willed female reporter, and Clark was nearly ripping the armrests off his chair in an effort to remain calm. "Even if you do take him, you know what will happen. Superman will save him. If he stopped your plans last time, there's no possible way he can't this time. And your last plan seemed to be so brilliant. This seems to just be lunacy."

"HA!" Lex burst out with laughter, and for a moment, he couldn't stop himself. Finally, regaining his composure, he spoke. "Oh, Miss Lane, you're a woman of little faith. Didn't _you_ even turn on Superman before he returned? I didn't know the press could be as fickle as the public. Surely you don't think I'd take on Superman without the most airtight of all possible plans."

"Then, what- are you planning on not taking on Superman yet? 'Cause he's. . . he's, um. . . f-f-friends with the Planet. W-We do most of his interviews." Jimmy's voice appeared to get shakier as Lex turned to meet his gaze.

"No, Mr. Olsen. In fact, I am taking Superman on at this very moment. I have no doubt in my mind that I have the key to getting back at Superman for once and for all."

"But Kent?" Cat Grant snorted from the other side of the bullpen. "Sorry, Luthor. But I'd have picked Lois if you're gonna taunt Superman. I didn't think he swung that way," she threw out in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Clark scowled at the joke, which Luthor had found hilarious. Irritated, Clark figured his best chance at survival- at their survival, that is, not his- was to comply with the maniac that stood before him. But he realized with a sickening churn that Luthor wouldn't be content with just that- he'd hurt someone here, as a safety. He'd hurt Lois.

Clark couldn't live with himself if that happened.

His mind supplied that he might not have to. Then he cursed himself, trying to think of something he could do, anything.

Subtly he used his x-ray vision to follow the wires attached to the phone and to a main electrical panel. Thankful for the moment that everyone's stares seemed to occupy the place where Luthor stood laughing, wiping the tears from his eyes. He decided to put his laser vision to good use, though he felt faintly tired from it.

"Oh, that was rich!" Luthor muttered.

Then the lights went out.

Suddenly chaos ensued as the people of the Daily Planet shrieked and screamed out of fright. They were trapped inside of a dark building with no apparent power source and Lex Luthor, a man who had so recently brought the man of steel to his knees.

Clark smiled to himself as he made his way over towards the rather confused looking bald man- whose expression Clark could only see thanks to enhanced vision, of course. But to do so was slightly tiring. He grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground with no effort, allowing the mass havoc around him to distract everyone from what he was doing. "That's it, Lex. You're done here," he stated quietly, but loud enough for the man to hear him.

Lex gave him a wide-eyed, innocent sort of look. Then suddenly, he shouted out painfully and loudly, vying for attention to be drawn in their direction. "Ow! Clark! I thought we were friends! Ouch!"

It was a lame attempt, and a childish one, but it got Lois's attention. She suddenly realized that Clark had attacked the criminal and her heart leapt at the sight- that scumbag deserved everything he got. But the force with which Clark had used to press Luthor up against the wall by his throat was surprising to say the least: Clark Kent was more of a runner, not the confrontational type. But right now he was displaying a very strong inclination towards the fight side of him. She supposed it really did take an emergency to determine one's "fight-or-flight" nature.

She wondered what must have happened between them as kids if he hated his best friend so much.

Then she rushed up to his side. "Clark, stop. You can't kill him, anyways. It's good enough, the scumbag has no place else to go. The police will be here in a minute, I know it."

"But Lois, he-"

"I know! And as much as I'd love to do him in with a dagger the likes of which I pulled out of Superman, I also know that nothing more can be done here." Clark didn't relax his grip, but his expression softened a bit. Finally, Luthor found his voice.

"Since you express such an interest in seeing me dead, Miss Lane, would you mind doing the honors? I'd rather not go back to prison." Upon seeing the surprise in both of their faces, Lex Luthor pulled a dagger out of his jacket pocket slowly and raised it up to the eye level of Clark.

The glint of green was all Clark needed to confirm the sick feeling he had felt in his stomach since long before this began.

Clark visibly recoiled and released the man. He loathed to do so, but he suddenly found his hands up at his forehead, gripping it in pain from the close exposure to the pure shard of Kryptonite. Luthor smiled and straightened up, smoothing his coat as he watched his one time friend writhe in pain. And the dagger hadn't even touched him yet.

Lois stared at Clark in confusion at first as he jerked away from Luthor. She had believed this to be a reaction to the fact that a dagger was being waved in his face- sure, that was scary for anyone- but as he doubled over clutching his head in pain, she suddenly doubted everything in her mind. His strong confident manner, his connection with Luthor, and his sudden aversion to kryptonite. . .

She gasped.

"Clark?" she found herself at his side, trying to help him, but realizing she couldn't unless she got that dagger away from him, far away. Lois glared up at Luthor, who leaned in ominously closer, causing Lois to feel much like a mama bear protecting her cub.

"Did you ever wonder why, Miss Lane? Why he ran off at odd times to odd places? Why he rarely ever kept his appointments with you, why he always showed up in the nick of time just to rescue you- and you in particular. He's had a crush on you forever- of course he's going to put you above everyone else.

"So what I did was simple. Clark Kent had already dug himself into a deep enough hole here that he couldn't even fly out. It just took me this long to realize that his one weakness above kryptonite was the people he loved and cared for. His friends, and more importantly, his _family_. Clark's always had a weakness, there."

Clark had been backing away, trying to escape the throbbing pain in his head. There must be a lot more kryptonite on Luthor, he realized, for it to have such a sudden and strong effect. Why was it so faint before? Why didn't he take care to notice?

It was like New Krypton all over again.

"You stay away from him Luthor," Lois spat fiercely as Lex tried to make his way past her short but staunch form to the retreating hero.

"Lois-" Clark choked out in an effort to stop her from doing something foolish, but she just shot him a look that said he wasn't getting out of this. Not yet, not this way. She had to make sure he lived so as to beat the living crap out of him for not telling her.

Luthor interrupted this little mental conversation by forcefully grabbing Lois and pulling out a gun. He trained it on her and looked into Clark's eyes, savoring the fear he saw there.

Then the lights came back on.

Clark silently thanked the powers that be for the new back-up system the Planet had had installed after Luthor's island earthquake that supplied and rerouted power to the bullpen as fast as possible. Then again, he had also thought he'd have finished dealing with Luthor by now.

Instead, he was writhing on the floor in pain, watching as Luthor pressed the gun up to Lois's head. Lois Lane. The mother of his child.

"Nobody move!" Luthor shouted as the cries of relief due to the electricity were once again replaced by shouts of terror at the revelation that he was armed. "Nobody move, and Miss Lane here just might live to see another day. Figuratively speaking, of course- if I do let her live, I'm not going to be letting her anywhere _near_ a window to 'see another day', not even a quick passing glance at the sky. Not that _he'll_ be there, though," Luthor added with a significant look to Clark.

Clark spoke through tightly gritted teeth as he managed to bring himself to his feet. "Luthor-"

"Don't be a hero, Kent. I'm living proof that even heroes can fall. And they fall pretty damn hard." He smiled proudly, but with something dangerous in his eyes, warning Clark.

People were staring, wondering what it was that was actually going on here, between these two cryptic men. Perry had a strange look in his eye, as if things were beginning to click into place. But Clark didn't have the time or the patience to care anymore. This was it. Put up or shut up time.

"I swear, Luthor, I will get you. You- agh," he rubbed his temples as he moved closer. "You know I can find you."

He smirked. "I don't think you'll be going anywhere anytime soon, Mr. Kent."

And with that, Luthor shot him.

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N:** Da, da, DAAAAAAAAA! Mwuahahahahahaha! (Or, if you follow Brandon Routh's performances, you could say "moo-haha," like Daniel Shaw! *Chuck refernece*). Couldn't resist the cliffhanger. Anyways, be back very soon!

Read. Enjoy. Review!


	3. Chapter 3: Shot

**A/N:** Yay! Chapter Three! This makes me happy :D Anyhoos. . . Posting as fast as I can, which for readers, is really fast! Unfortunately for moi, I do happen to have a real life that gets in the way. . . but for now I'm using this as an excuse to escape it. Hope to be able to post a lot more soon, without getting too far behind in schoolwork. . . . which I should really get back to.

**Disclaimer:** Okay, so yes, I don't own Superman, DC, the tiny reference to Smallville or any other copyright infringement lawsuits a big company may be able to level against me for abusing characters that are not mine to abuse. Sorry. *tear*

*****Chapter Three: Shot*****

Clark hadn't expected that.

And when he heard the gun actually fire, he hadn't expected the bullet to bury itself into his shoulder, either. He'd expected it to bounce off, maybe flatten out a little bit, like it usually did. That was what he got for making assumptions.

For a minute, he felt like he was falling. Falling again from the sky, from space, from the kryptonite infested rock that he had just threw into orbit. And for that moment, everything seemed peaceful.

That is, until he crashed onto the desk behind him, falling on it and breaking it with his large body structure. The room had been flooded with noise, but the second he crashed into that desk the room went silent for a whole half of a second. After which panic ensued, many people running off, getting out of the building as fast as possible. Then Perry took charge again, sending the few people left to do different things; call an ambulence, call the cops, call for Superman- though he cast a dubious looking glance in Clark's direction- and in the meanwhile he and Jimmy struggled to move Clark out of the desk debris.

The first thing Jimmy noticed was all the blood.

"Oh my god, Chief," he whispered. "He's losing a lot of blood, fast. We gotta do something here. Oh my god, oh my god-"

"Jimmy, pipe down a minute. Clark, can you hear me?" His eyes, underneath his thick glasses, fluttered open for a moment in recognition. And Perry couldn't help but notice that they looked confused. Both he and Jimmy couldn't help noticed the pain in his blue eyes- Perry noticing for the first time just how blue his eyes were. "Clark, it's alright, you're gonna be okay. It doesn't look like he got any major organs, just caught your shoulder that's all. An ambulence is on their way to take you to the emergency room-"

Clark gripped Perry's wrist in fear and Perry was surprised by the man's strength- or lack of it, depending on whether or not his theory was right. "N-n-no," he stammered. "L-Lois-"

"Clark, you have to go to a hospital. We can't be much help here," Perry added with a glance at Jimmy, who was currently tearing up a random spare shirt found the other day in the elevator shaft to make a make-shift bandage.

Clark shook his head, despite the immense pain. "Been there," he said, grinding his teeth once again. "They can't help," he mumbled. "Outstanding bills, anyways. L-lois-"

"Here, Clark," Jimmy broke in, pressing the shirt against the wound. At hearing Clark wince, he lightened up a bit, but couldn't decide if it was too much or too little pressure. "Sorry, Clark. Off with the duds. They're all bloody anyways, and I can't try to help if it's all covered up." Not that he had any idea of what it was he was planning on doing.

But at that last statement, Clark practically shot up, the realization hitting him. His suit. . . the one underneath. . . they would know. . . they would find out. . . oh no, did they know? It was kryptonite he was exposed to. What if. . . he couldn't think straight, all he knew was that he had to get away from Jimmy, and there was no chance in hell he was getting in an ambulance right now. He refused to give Luthor the satisfaction.

His body betrayed his determined thoughts though, as he doubled over once again, trying to ignore the searing pain in his shoulder as Clark's head pounded and ached like never before. Okay, it hurt this bad maybe _once_ before. His hands flew to his face, and he grabbed his forehead tightly as he clamped his eyes shut. There was just so much light. . .

Faintly he recognized Perry's voice speaking, calling out to him once again. Something about his clothes, his shirt needing to come off to clean the wound. Unconsciously his hand flew to his tie, a nervous gesture, but a protective one. He wasn't gonna let some lame bullet reveal all of his secrets just because he was weakened enough by the kryptonite to allow it to pierce his skin.

Luthor.

The name came unbidden to his thoughts, and he realized too late that he had actually said the name aloud. "He's gone now, Kent," he heard Perry respond to his unspoken question. "Luthor took off somewhere," he tried to avoid mentioning Lois's name, as it seemed to agitate the very pained man. Perry concluded that Kent couldn't be Superman- Superman could deflect bullets without batting an eyelash. Clark Kent was lying here on the floor, bleeding out and whining about going to a hospital. As Jimmy rushed to get some towels out of the restroom, he had a Clark moment and tripped over a metal briefcase- and it opened, spilling all its contents. Jimmy was about to apologize until he saw what it was.

"Uh, chief?" his voice cracked.

The briefcase had been stuffed full of kryptonite rocks.

Clark felt it as it opened before he saw it. He swore as he cringed and writhed in agony now. The case must have been lead-lined. He should have seen it, felt it, anything. Stupid lead.

Perry on the other hand, was too shocked to notice Clark's sudden increase in symptoms. "Great Cesar's ghost," he muttered, eyes wide at all of the kryptonite. Clark had to hand it to Luthor: he always came prepared. But he knew that wasn't all of it. There had to be more. But he suddenly felt like he couldn't move, feeling sweaty and cold and clammy all at once, stomach no longer churning uncomfortably but rather aching painfully. He realized he would need help to get away from it.

Against his better judgement, he knew he had to tell them.

"Ah!" he shouted uncontrollably in pain as he tried to find a position that didn't hurt some part of his body. His head was going to explode; he swore it would. If it did, Clark would welcome the release. Suddenly, not thinking straight, off came the glasses and he chucked them aside, not wanting anything beyond the necessary. Not to mention they hurt his eyes now. He fiercely covered his eyes with his hands in an attempt to find darkness, something to soothe his eyes.

Perry turned to his reporter with a look of concern- he had inexplicably been getting worse and worse, and fast. The poor kid had tossed his glasses out of frustration, and was rolling around like he was dying, not facing anyone. Sure, he gathered it hurt to get shot, but Perry thought the Kansas farmboy would be a little bit tougher, and the pain should have become less biting. Perry had been shot at before on assignment back in the day. It hurt, but he recalled holding it together much better.

"Clark, what's the matter? What's- wh-wha-?"

Clark turned to face his boss with a look of unmasked pain spread across his face. What was more surprising was what wasn't on his face- and boy, what a difference it made.

"S-S-Super-" Perry let his voice trail off.

Clark didn't care who knew right now. He couldn't speak, but merely pleaded Perry with his eyes, imploring him to do one thing. His editor understood.

"Jimmy!" He hollered, a new sense of urgency overtaking him. "Get those green rocks out of here this instant! I don't care what you do with them, so long as they're outside of my building!"

"Why, chief?" Jimmy asked as he walked back carrying one in each hand. Perry heard Clark's gasp and then wheeze, sounding like he was about to have an asthma attack or something, but the pain was too sharp for him to try to calm himself down. Clark bit down hard on his hand, in an effort to redirect the pain, but the second he tasted blood in his mouth, he immediately recoiled. He cried out in agony.

Jimmy's eyes were drawn to his friend, and after a moment's recognition, he let out a gasp himself. "Clark-?" Suddenly realizing he was holding the most deadly substance known to earth-bound Kryptonians, he hurried back, stuffed every trace of kryptonite back into it the lead briefcase, then stuffed it into a garbage shoot that led to a dumpster outside of the building. The second he returned, he noticed Clark's breathing had become a little less wheezy- at least he wasn't going to have to borrow an inhaler out of Lois's desk. Poor little Jason had enough bad experiences with those sporadic asthma attacks that-

Jason.

Holy crap.

Perry might have figured out the whole Clark-Kent-was-Superman thing first, but Jimmy had made an even bigger discovery.

Superman had a son.

Perry was trying to talk some reason into the man of steel, who at the moment was refusing to remove his shirt despite the spreading blood. Acting more like his five year old son than a superhero. But the blood concerned Jimmy: the kryptonite was gone, so shouldn't he have healed already? He knelt down next to his boss and his bleeding friend.

"Look, Kent. I can't help you with that bullet hole unless you get that stupid shirt off. Now off it goes." He began to loosen the man's tie as Clark gave in, his eyes slipping shut, with Jimmy now helping by undoing the top buttons.

He couldn't supress a gasp as he saw the iconic blue and red underneath, the top of the "S" symbol just barely peeking out. For a moment, he and Perry just stared in awe. All these years. . . and he was under their noses. Or rather, above them, Jimmy supposed, considering Clark was so tall.

Looking at him now, like this, it was impossible to think of Clark Kent as anything other than Superman. It was so obvious- they were the same exact person. They had the same features, same height, same arrival and departure dates- same blue eyes-

Which were now shut lightly. "Um, chief?" Jimmy whispered as he noticed Clark's still labored breathing, but his nonresponsive face. His eyes could be seen darting back and forth underneath his heavy lids.

"Yeah, I noticed too," he said irritated. "You try and talk him out of it while I try to figure out how to get this god-forsaken suit off."

Jimmy nodded, helping with what he could as he spoke. "Come on, Clark. Stay with me. You can't go under right now. We're pulling for you buddy. Lois needs you. Jason needs her too. And," he added, hoping he had guessed correctly- otherwise this would make for an incredibly awkward moment, "your son needs you too. You're their only hope, Clark."

Perry looked at him quizzically, then things clicked into place in his mind. He nodded as he finally figured out a way to pull down the crimson stained suit so that his shoulder lay exposed, the bullet wound blatantly obvious. The entire surrounding area was swollen and red- not just from blood, but as if it were infected. Perry worried they hadn't been fast enough in getting rid of the briefcase, and mentally cursed himself for not realizing sooner, reacting quicker.

Then his eyes fluttered open. Jimmy knew it was the thought of his family that kept him out of a coma again- and the pride mixed with pain in his fierce blue eyes.

Then he spoke. Miracle of miracles, Clark Kent had managed to speak despite all of his pain. "Th-thank you," he whispered to Jimmy. Jimmy smiled. Then Clark tried to turn his head toward his editor-in-chief, noting the fear in his eyes. He had no idea what to do.

"P-p-perry," he spoke hoarsely as he felt the poison coursing through his veins, reassuring him that this wasn't just any ordinary bullet. "Get it out of me. As s-s-soon as possible."

"I can't do that, Clark. I have no idea what I'm doing here- just wait for the doctors, they'll be here any minute now I'm sure."

"N-no. I won't last th-that long."

"What are you talking about Kent? For pete's sakes: You're Superman! How can you not last that long? Buck up, man."

"K-kr-kr," he tried but felt his mind slipping from him slowly.

"What?"

"K-kryp-" he took in a sharp breath as he lifted his hand and pointed to the entry point of the wound. "Kryptonite b-bul-l-l-" He stopped talking and gestured frantically to his boss as he once again began wheezing, as though he were about to have a coughing fit. Luckily, Perry had already got the picture and was terrified to find that one of his best reporters was dying from the inside out. Luthor had done his fair bit of research, alright.

Clark fumbled through his pockets and found a pen. He held it painfully above him, ready to do anything to get out the poisonous rock, when Perry caught him at it and stopped him. Much to his surprise, and fear, the man of steel was cold feeling and shaky. He handed over the pen to his boss as he adjusted his position in order to find some comfort- though none came.

"Wh-where. . ." his voice faltered for a minute as he coughed, a sharp pain shooting through him at the violence of the motion. "Which way did he take her?"

Perry's heart ached for the boy. He knew that Clark had always had a pitiful crush on Lois, years before especially. But she only had eyes for one man: Superman. Clark was Superman. But he couldn't just tell her that. It all clicked into place as his thoughts came crashing together. He didn't know if they were destined to be together, or if they were destined to be kept apart, suffering for their love for all eternity- they had suffered so long already. And that's even with a kid in the picture-

Jason. Looking at Clark now, with no glasses and looking rather sickly, even despite his intense pain: it was spitting image. Jason was Clark's clone, practically. He couldn't believe he had never seen it before. He had known Richard wasn't the father- that much was clear, but in light of this new evidence he felt like a complete idiot.

Suddenly paramedics came in through the stairwell, apparently Luthor having disabled the elevators before leaving. They apologized as well as sweat profusely- considering the bullpen was on the 23nd floor of the Daily Planet building- and were getting down to work on Clark when they recognized who it was.

Their collective jaw became unhinged as all of the sudden they weren't aware of what to do. Superman was practically passed out, having not been seen for a little less than half a day, and appearing to have done no physically straining activity. Nothing, at least, remotely similar to lifting an entire island of kryptonite.

But there was a bullet wound in his chest.

They were apparently unprepared for this. If they had expected to see the man of steel there at all, they'd thought it would be him hovering outside the window. Or kicking the crap out of Lex Luthor.

Perry took charge. "Look, I know what it is that you're being asked to do. But he's dying here. You have to help him. It's kryptonite. The bullet. It's pretty deep inside his shoulder- and I don't think you'll be able to move him. He's in a lot of pain."

A couple of them bent over the hero and began to test for his vitals- thankful that he stirred slightly at the presence of others. The head doctor spoke quietly to Perry. "Look, I was there a couple of weeks ago, when they were. . . working on him. They couldn't even get an IV needle in him, his skin was too thick. It was a miracle they were able to reach the remnants of kryptonite in his side. We couldn't do anything else."

"AH!" Clark released a short, pained scream. The other two doctors looked at him quizzically, having only peeled back his clothes farther so that his entire broad chest was bare. One of their hands must have brushed against the wound. Jimmy, watching his friend from the side, noticed there was still a pretty nasty scar on his abdomen- from his last encounter with Luthor, three weeks ago.

"Jimmy," Clark breathed, and in an instant Jimmy, Perry and the doctors were at his side, ready to listen.

After a second of complete silence among them, Jimmy prodded hopefully. "Yeah, C- Superman?" He saved himself just in time.

Clark kept glancing towards the garbage chute. "Kryp- kr-kryptonite," he was on the edge of release, he knew it. But he fought hard against it. He fought for Lois. For Jason. "Hurry," he breathed, gesturing wildly with his eyes towards where the briefcase full of kryptonite had been so recently discarded. Perry White understood first, and his eyes went wide.

"No," he said fiercely. "I can't let you do that. That's like suicide! I'm not gonna let you intentionally hurt yourself, Superman."

Trying to convince them of his plan, Clark gritted his teeth together and tried to pull himself together. At least enough to speak coherently. He gestured to his side where the shiv had left its mark. "It will give them. . . enough time. I hope you can- eh- move fast," he added humorously, though it was very dry. Jimmy immediately did as Clark asked and ran to search for those deadly crystals, used to running errands for Clark Kent, the man, not the hero. That's what he told himself as he searched for it. It was something Lois and Clark needed for research for an assignment. Yeah. That was it.

Thank god, the maintenance elevators just got up and running again. Irony of all ironies, as the paramedics glanced at the working lifts irritably.

The doctor finally spoke to Superman. "Listen, are you sure? What if this stuff kills you faster than the bullet? What if we can't get it out in time? I mean, what are we supposed to do? We don't have all our supplies, or anesthetics- can you even take anesthetics? What do we do?" His eyes searched the man of steel's, but the sight didn't settle his nerves any further.

Finally, Clark grabbed the nearest object to him- the pen Perry had just recently confiscated- and pressed it into the doctor's hand firmly. "Dig," he said simply, his face pained.

The doctor blinked. "Dig?"

"YES! For god's sakes! Dig it out! I am freaking dying here, for the second or third time in the past three weeks. Get it the hell out of my freaking shoulder!"

His tone of voice and the large outburst was accompanied by Jimmy's hesitant return into the room, kryptonite rocks in the briefcase once again. Clark jerked his head to indicate where he wanted the briefcase- next to his wounded shoulder. "Open it, when you're ready to start. JUST DIG!"

And whether it was his casual swearing, or the fact that he was responding so strongly to the pain he felt- the doctor broke into a grin. Somehow, it was easier to operate on him if he didn't have the air of actually being the man of steel. He seemed human like this. They would help the man behind the man of steel.

Perry walked away into his office unable to stand the blood, the "digging" as Clark had euphemistically termed it, or the screams that were evoked from him. So he contented himself to watch from a distance, noticing to his slight alarm that Clark had grown rather still for the last few moments. His gut tightened up. This couldn't really be happening, could it? None of it made any sense- _liar,_ he chastized himself for his thoughts. In reality, everything made sense now. But his concern was mainly over why. Why did it have to be this way? Falling the length of the Earth's atmosphere wasn't enough, Luthor just needed to come and shoot Superman at his office.

It wasn't fair.

_The world isn't fair_, he reminded himself. And yet he couldn't help but think it as he stared at the squirming, bloody, half-naked superhero on his office floor. _Why?_

Clark could have asked himself that same question, had he the presence of mind to think it. As it was, he knew he was slipping away, into a comatose state. He felt his heart rate slowing, though it hurt every time it beat. He felt like he was underwater: no sights, just some unfocused sounds. He heard one of the doctors say something about the bullet having hit and lodged itself into one of his major arteries that led straight to his heart. He swore in the depths of his mind. Luthor hadn't missed his heart. He had wanted him to suffer, to be in worse pain. He had hit Superman exactly where he had wanted to.

Not only was the kryptonite mingling with the blood pumping throughout his body, but he also felt the draining effects of the briefcase of kryptonite lying near his head. It felt like a fire he couldn't put out, the heat searing his skin and his brain, even in the depths of his self-induced coma.

He didn't know how long he could last like this.

Then, miracle of miracles, there was a release.

Clark felt much as he had when Lois pulled the kryptonite shiv out of his side three weeks ago. _Three weeks._ And now it was kryptonite bullets.

Not anymore. He could feel it- the bullet was gone. Then a second relief came with the firm shutting of the briefcase, and it was all taken as far away from him as possible. A wave of relief washed over him and he felt his heart rate rising.

Who needed anesthetics when you could put yourself into a coma?

After struggling for what felt like several minutes, Clark finally found that his eyes had become less heavy. _Lois,_ he reminded himself. _I need to live. For Lois, and for my son. My son. Not Richard's. My Jason. And we can finally have a chance to live happily ever after._ He figured, as long as he was wishing, he might as well wish for the best.

And then his bright blue eyes fluttered open.

He saw several faces floating over him: Jimmy, Perry, and the four doctors who had helped him. They were slightly blurred, though, residual of the coma, he assumed. Clark suddenly became uncomfortable with all of the staring, and shifted painfully on the bloody ground. Slowly, he moved to sit up. They all moved back, giving him room to breathe. They looked haggard, Perry especially. But the look of relief spread across their countenances spoke more volumes.

"Oh, thank god," his editor whispered.

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N:** Yaay! This time I took a little bit of pity on you, and gave you guys a happy ending. Well, as happy as it's gonna get for the time being. Okay, so maybe it's not so happy. . . but we've established he's alive. Right? For now anyways, who knows what other trouble Clark will get himself into. No super major cliffhangers at least! Chapter four will be up soon! If you like this story, please review! It makes me happy enough to avoid physics homework for a little while longer so that I can get back to you guys with more diabolical plotlines!

REIVIEW! please. :)


	4. Chapter 4: So Blind

**A/N:** Hello my loves! Again, I'm posting out of avoidance of homework, only this time it's art! (my teacher's so gonna kill me. . . but i've just been so uninspired lately. . . .) Besides, I seem to find Superman's life much more interesting for the time being. :)

BTW. . . for those of you reading and running. . . I've noticed the amount of hits this story has got in comparison to reviews, and frankly it's depressing! I'm trying to get better at reviewing myself, so I understand, but please! It helps me focus and post faster (even though this is pretty darn fast). So here's a little guilt trip for you, reminding you to do a friend a favor, and **REVIEW**. Who knows? Your review might be just the thing to keep Clark safe. Otherwise who knows what kind of torture I might put him through. =] *evil laugh*

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill. I own nothing, you laugh politely at my barely tolerable "funny" story about daydreaming of Clark, I end up in tears, and you skim the rest of this paragraph waiting for the story to begin. And I cry some more.

*****Chapter Four: So Blind*****

Clark still felt the kryptonite within him, coursing through his veins. But he wasn't about to tell them that. Instead he forced a pained sort of smile. He realized then he was only sitting in half of his suit- the suit, he amended. Perry and Jimmy must have moved his other clothes. Part of his smile became genuine at that.

"Superman, are you alright?" Jimmy asked nervously. "You were out for about forty-five minutes after the doctors removed the bullet."

At this, Clark frowned. "What? No, it was only like, five minutes, for the whole procedure." At the dubious looks on their faces and their glances at one another, his heart sunk. "Wasn't it?" he whispered, suddenly fearful everything would be too late.

Perry spoke up slowly. "It took about thirty minutes for the procedure alone. We thought we'd lost you for a moment there. And then you didn't wake up afterwards. . . the only hope we had that you were alive was your sporadic breathing."

Clark's eyes went wide. So that was how he missed out on an entire two days after the whole new Krypton issue. After visiting Lois and Jason, he went home, to his mom's and slept next to an open window facing the sun for what felt like a solid night's rest. If time was equated that differently. . . he shuddered.

"That. . . would explain a lot, actually," he acquiesced. He squinted, looking around the office.

The head doctor was suddenly excited. "What is it? Did you hear something? What do you see?"

Clark frowned deeper, glancing in the direction of the doctor before continuing his search, and slowly reattaching his suit so that he was no longer bare chested. His gut clenched up as he spread his gaze across the entire office. "I'm. . . not sure." He managed to stand up and winced in pain. Turning around he gestured towards the conference room, which conveniently had shades and door intact. "Mr. White, may I have a private word with you, please?"

They all seemed curious, but they let the two men have their peace. Perry approached apprehensively, staring at him with a sense of awe. The man had taken a bullet a mere hour and a half ago, and there he was, once again standing in all his glory, his suit (_the_ suit) back on him, though it was still stained crimson and the bullet hole was obvious.

Dropping his voice, Clark began. "I think we have a problem, Chief. I mean, I do."

For once, Perry let the chief line slide. He frowned. "What do you mean?"

Clark struggled with what to say, but was finding it very frustrating. His blurred vision was not making the situation any better. "I, uh, I mean. . . can you find my glasses please?"

For a second Perry stood still, before he realized he was talking about his Clark Kent disguise. Nodding, he turned around, scanned the floor, and picked up the thick rimmed frames. He outstretched his hand with the glasses, in an attempt to return them, when he suddenly froze. Clark couldn't see his expression, but by the very still and quiet form of the blur before him, he knew Perry had just realized it.

"Wait. Do you mean that-"

"Yeah. I can't see real good right now. Probably some of the effects of the kryptonite leftover," he said vaguely, trying to hide his pain.

"What do you mean? And besides, I thought these were fakes?" He held up the glasses and looked through them. Whoa. Strong perscription. Perry reeled slightly before Clark took them blindly from his boss's hands. Glancing around, after having slowly closed the blinds as he walked about the room, and finally sure that they were alone, he put the glasses on his face and breathed an enormous sigh of relief. He rubbed his temples, now not as sore from either the kryptonite or the blindness. Perry, shocked at the appearance of Superman wearing Clark Kent's glasses, allowed his jaw to hang open as the superhero sunk heavily into a chair. How could Perry White have been so blind?

Finally, he mustered up the courage to ask a question. "Kent, what's the matter?"

Clark thought about that, allowing himself a slight laugh at his own expense. "Gee, Perry, I don't know. I was shot by my best friend and mortal enemy, who I just found out today knows my secret identity. He also knows I have a son- he knows every person I'm close to. Then you threatened to fire me when my other work got in the way of this one. Lois knows I'm Superman, the father of her child, and now Luthor's gone and kidnapped her. Not to mention she'll be really peeved when she comes back." _If she comes back_, then Clark mentally kicked himself. Of course she will. He just had keep moving forward. "Oh, and to top it all off, I apparently can't see without my glasses that until now, for the most part had been a disguise." He paused, debating whether or not to continue, chewing on his lip. _Keep moving forward,_ he reminded himself. "And I'm not sure what powers I have left right now, if any."

Perry hadn't moved, but that last line shocked him out of his frozen state. "What do you mean? You don't have your powers? How is that possible? We got rid of all the kryptonite I thought! There must be more in the office here, somewhere." He began searching the conference room frantically, looking under the chairs and desk, before returning his gaze to Clark, mouth open as if to speak again.

Clark raised up his hand to silence his boss. "No, there's not. What's left is in me." At the quizzical look Perry was giving him, Clark sighed and continued.

"There's something- one thing, really- besides my secret identity- that I haven't exactly told the press of. Not even Lois. I don't want lunatics the likes of Luthor getting any other ideas.

"After my stabbing, Lois pulled the majority of the blade out of my side, but Luthor had broken it inside of me, and so the little that was left I had to manage with. The wound was in my side, mind you," he gestured to where it lay, covered only by the most infamous suit known to man. "But most of it was gone, and what was left wasn't flowing to my blood stream fast enough, so I could fly up to the sun to get enough power to lift that island. But between that and the island, and kryptonite that infested the whole thing, it drained me to the point of nearly dying in space. That's when I fell, and went comatose. All of the kryptonite poisoning had caught up with me, and I seriously didn't know I would make it."

"Kryptonite poisoning?" Perry interrupted, almost in a whisper.

"And that's the part I haven't told the news about. The kryptonite in my bloodstream: only a full on coma or a really long period of time in the sun can isolate it and kill it. Sunlight for me is kind of like radiation for a cancer patient. It can kill the kryptonite and bring back my powers."

"So you're saying that you need some sunlight to get better."

Clark walked over to the outside window, absorbing the light that came through. "Yes. And no. See, that little bit of sunlight should be enough to get me back to my normal vision- not even super vision. Just average vision. And yet, without the glasses, I'm still as blind as a bat." He smiled at his clever little reference to his other caped friend. Then he sighed. "The last time I actually needed my glasses was before I even learned how to fly. Back before my junior year in high school."

"Wait, you actually needed glasses? No- scratch that. You went to high school?"

"Yeah Perry. I was taken in by my parents when I was three. My whole life is true, not some clever little backstory I invented on the spot."

"Oh," Perry just said, and frowned. Another thing the man of steel had kept from the papers. Then he remembered Lex's earlier words. "So. . . was Lex Luthor. . . you know. . . is it true?"

His face fell. Suddenly he looked every bit Clark Kent- his shoulders slouched over, head hanging down, shuffling his feet, nervously fidgeting with his glasses. "He didn't. . . I-I mean. . . He did. . . That's not the same Lex Luthor I grew up with." The steel returned to his voice, but his face remained mournful. "Lex kind of lost it a few years before I ever showed up at the Planet. No epic battles, in case you're wondering how you missed it," Clark added wryly. "He didn't know who I was. I wasn't even Superman then. But he didn't know anything about. . . me really. We had a falling out of sorts over a girl, then he had some family issues to deal with. . . it got complicated. Then after his mental breakdown and then being institutionalized, and then escaping and then his whole steroid incident. . ." at Perry's shocked expression, Clark stopped himself. "But I digress." He blushed, and looked down at his shoes. Lex Luthor was another story he had never told to anyone, for fear that they might make the connection between himself and . . . well, his super self.

Perry realized how much more depth Clark Kent had to him- in both personnas. Not just the superhero who went around sacrificing himself for the world; nor was he a mere mild-mannered reporter who was hopelessly in love with his coworker. His character was more fleshed out- he was some of both, and at the same time, little of either.

He was a man.

The only thing standing between Clark Kent and the rest of humankind was his alien birth and foreign powers. And even the powers thing was iffy now.

Perry processed the information before continuing. "Listen, I know that you want to- need to," Perry corrected at the look he shot him, "to go save Lois. But right now, he'll just kill you for real. You need to be smart about this, Kent. Get some sunlight. He won't hurt her because he wants to get to you."

Clark nodded, willing himself to believe it was the truth, not allowing himself to imagine otherwise. Then a thought crossed his mind. "How long has it been? Since it all happened?"

Perry shrugged. "A few hours, maybe. But you can't think with your heart on this. Lex Luthor is a smarter man than you give him credit for. For the most part, I've assumed that you're pretty smart yourself."

Clark smiled wryly. "Yeah, idetic memories helped in school. Particularly tests."

"Then be rational about this, Clark. You can't just barge in there, without your powers, telling him to let her go. You've been around Lex enough to know he'll have something up his sleeve. Probably kryptonite."

"Or worse," Clark mumbled.

"What could be worse for you?"

Clark turned very pained eyes on his boss, stung at his words. Even through the thick glasses, Perry saw Superman. It was impossible to not notice now. Blind. That was the only way to describe how he now felt about it. "Do the words "Luthor knows about Jason" mean anything to you, Perry?"

Perry looked flustered, then looked down at his shoes. "Yeah. But I'm serious, Kent. Maybe he won't know you lived. How could he? You're in the clear, for now. The longer you wait, the more difficult it may be for you, but Lex will start to slack off. Cut corners. If you want to save Lois, you need to keep a low profile. Which should be relatively easy, all things considered."

Clark looked sullenly at the floor. "Yeah, I know."

There was a pause before Perry spoke up. "So. . . what do you want to do?"

Clark smiled sadly, as the idea he had been rolling around in his head for the past few minutes came to life. "Perry, you're gonna have to get me on a flight to Kansas."

*****Act Drop*****

To be continued. . .

REVIEW! Now! Before you have chance to secondguess yourself- I don't care what you say so long as I know what's on your mind. It's just a little blue button and a few thoughts from your head. . . .


	5. Chapter 5: Acrophobia

**A/N:** Oh, boy. This is a long one. Ish. The longest of the chapters thus far, anyways. I won't bore you up here any longer, just read and review!

**Disclaimer:** Superman, Superman, wherefore art thou not mine, Superman? ;P

*****Chapter Five: Acrophobia*****

Jimmy couldn't believe the irony of it. He and Superman- Clark, he reminded hinself- just took an airplane out to Smallville. Nobody had recognized him, in a disguise while in his Clark disguise, and nobody stopped to think twice about why they were going to Smallville. Clark was a little paranoid that Luthor would post lookouts for him- in either guise. Which, all things considered, wasn't entirely uncalled for.

The fact that no one seemed to notice a supposedly dead man getting on an airplane- even when that dead man was specifically Superman's alterego- now that was ironic. What threw Jimmy for a loop was Clark's rather obvious fear of flying.

Superman, afraid of heights.

"Clark, it's perfectly alright. Think about how many people travel in airplanes everyday."

"Statistically speaking, it's still the safest way to travel," he muttered venomously, hating himself for ever being so dense- in a non-physical sense, that is.

Oblivious to the meaning behind the comment, Jimmy nodded. "Right. See? We're taking off now- nothing to worry about." Glancing over at his friend's expression, he had to stifle a laugh. A look of sheer terror occupied his blue eyes beneath the glasses- and had he still had his powers, Jimmy was positive that the armrests would no longer be attached to the chair. Then again, he wouldn't be on the plane right now either, were that the case.

Jimmy had given Clark the window seat, allowing him as much sunlight as possible. But though the sunlight washed over him, he refused to look out the window, shutting his eyes firmly everytime he caught a glance.

"Clark," Jimmy chided.

"It just shouldn't be possible, right? How is it possible?"

"Come on, Clark. It's basic physics. I don't know how it works, but you should."

"Like _that_ matters! Physics is a load of crap. How could I ever have believed in something like physics? Equations make sense on paper- not in the air! I'm such an idiot! How can a crudely shaped piece of metal lift into the air seemingly at random and fly?"

"Same way Superman does. It just takes off."

"No. Superman isn't bound by the laws of gravity on this planet. A stupid piece of metal is. Should be, anyways."

Lowering his voice, Jimmy whispered to his friend. "What's the matter? You do this all of the time."

"Jimmy," he returned, just as quietly, "Do you have any idea of how many plane crashes I've had to save? How many I couldn't save? Heck, the first thing I did upon my return was save that plane and space shuttle. And you tell me flying's safe?" He snorted.

Needless to say, Superman was feeling a little bit angsty. Jimmy even felt a little nervous by the end of his rant. If Superman had so little faith. . . no. He had to keep Clark reassured- he had to be the brave one now. Jimmy's mother had been acrophobic, and he had several fond memories of his childhood vacations wherein he had to deal with her fears. Surely he could convince Superman that flying wasn't all that bad.

In order to do this, though, Jimmy had to resort to the same means his family had used on his mother as a child. He had to get a few drinks into the man of steel, to take the edge off.

That's why when the plane landed, he had to practically knock Clark onto the floor to wake him up.

The ride to his farm had been uneventful, Clark slumped over in the backseat of Jimmy's rental car, complaining about a headache- something he rarely got. One thing was for sure: regardless of his superpowers, that man could be called "super" just for the amount of liquor he could consume. If he had still had his powers, it would have been mildly impressive. But the fact that sans-super-metabolism, Clark had managed to hold down three beers and a couple of vodkas was sheer insanity- but the man was paying for it now. Super aacrophobia had called for super drinking. And super drinking called for _super_ hangovers, and Jimmy had no doubt as he glanced at his now unconscious friend in the back seat, that he wouldn't be doing that much drinking again for a _very_ long time.

As Jimmy walked up alone to the front door of the Kent farmhouse, he felt his mouth go dry. Stupid Clark, why'd he have to drink so much? He couldn't face his mother all alone; he could only imagine how awkward it would be. What should he say? '_Hi, Superman's mom! I'm Jimmy Olsen, and your son's passed out in my car: powerless, shot, drunk and put off of flying for the rest of his life. What's new with you?'_ He shook his head, knowing his job. He knocked firmly on the door.

A few minutes later, when a little old lady finally opened it, she looked at him quizzically, but it was obvious that she'd been crying- and hard. Her eyes were red and bloodshot. "Yes?" she asked politely, but there was a hitch in her throat.

"Um, M-Mrs. Kent?" Jimmy asked hesitantly.

"Yes?" she repeated, a bit of a forced note in her tone.

"Uh, my name's Jimmy Olsen, I work at the Daily Planet with- _oof!"_

Suddenly Jimmy found himself pulled into a tight embrace, the old lady weeping openly on his shoulder, then muttering for him to come inside. Glancing at the car, satisifed that Clark was still out cold in the back seat, he consented. The woman was pretty shook up. He figured it'd be better if he knew what kind of tragedy had struck her before he broke any worse news to Clark.

Before he knew it, he was being tearfully served tea and cookies, not able to get a coherent sentence out of her, just some snippets about "he's gone". Finally, when she had slightly calmed, he felt he had to ask.

"Mrs. Kent, I don't mean to pry, especially at a time like this, you being so distraught and all, but what happened? What caused all this?"

Suddenly she looked at her guest sharply, eyeing him as if to see if he was serious, or if he was a threat, or if he really was that out of the loop. Deciding on the latter, she finally explained. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I thought that's why you were here. I guess I should never assume anything- Clark's always reminding me of that-" she broke off to try to compose herself, brushing away a few tears gently. "Um, you see, I read this morning's edition of the news." At Jimmy's blank expression, she continued. "You know, the front page article?" She dug through the papers on the table to display the headline.

Jimmy's heart skipped a beat, then sank out of sympathy for the old woman.

The headline was as follows:

_Daily Planet Reporter Killed In Brave Rescue Effort._

"Oh, Mrs. Kent," he began, then stopped trying to find the best way to explain. How do you break that sort of news- _you're son's really alive, he's just super wasted? _Darn it, he had told Clark to call, and now he left Jimmy there to pick up the pieces. "I'm so sorry. H-he was supposed to call you before that went into print, warning you, but he kind of flipped out on the plane, and I guess he forgot with all of the drinks. . ." he trailed off at her perplexed and hurt expression.

"What are you talking about?" she whispered, too scared to allow herself any hope.

"Um, Mrs. Kent, you see, Clark's-"

Suddenly the door burst open. "Ma? Ma? Are you alright? What's wrong? Jimmy what happened- Agh!" Suddenly Clark crumpled over, the noise hurting him as much as the hangover. Perhaps the drinks had sharpened his senses enough for his hearing to return.

Needless to say, Mrs. Kent's jaw hung open in complete and utter shock.

After, having recovered himself slightly, but still quite inebriated, he plopped down on his mother's sofa, holding his head.

Finally, she managed to speak. "Clark?" she whispered. He groaned slightly in response, but the joy in her eyes was evident. "Clark!" She ran over to him and cradled his large form in her arms. She wept, but this time Jimmy was proud to note they were tears of joy. After several minutes of her just holding him like that, she suddenly pulled back and smacked him across the arm, but not too hard, knowing that if she did that it could quite possibly break her entire arm. She didn't know he was without his powers. He flinched, but not enough to show much pain besides an internal one. "How could you do that to your poor mother? After what happened last time- I at the very least deserve a phone call! Why would you let me think that you were dead? And let the Planet publish it? At first, yeah, I though it to be another one of your stupid antics, but when no one spotted Superman, either, and then the phone calls started coming in. . ." she broke off, allowing herself to cry once more. Now it was Clark's turn to comfort his mother.

"Sh-sh-shh. It's alright," he tried to amend, but ultimately knew it was a mistake. "It's okay. I'm here now." He winced as she gripped him tighter, constricting the unhealed wound in his shoulder.

At seeing the expression on Clark's face, Jimmy stepped in. "Uh, Mrs. Kent? You might want to lighten up there a little bit. Clark really was wounded."

Suddenly she looked up into the face of her little boy, and saw how haggard he was. Though he smelled faintly- no, strongly of alcohol, the pain in his face allowed her to overlook the fact. She backed up and gave him a quick going over. Finally, pursing her lips, she decided to turn to her guest.

"Jimmy, I presume you know everything about him now, seeing as you were entrusted to get him here?" She asked quizzically.

"Yes, ma'am, I do."

"Then would you mind telling me what happened? The whole story? I think we should let Clark rest for a while."

He nodded, trying to piece together everything in his mind while following her into the kitchen.

"So? Begin when you're ready." Her expression was that of anger mixed with relief. It suddenly struck Jimmy that Lois was a lot like Mrs. Kent. She got the same way when Superman had survived the fatal stabbing and fall.

He cleared his throat. "Well, um, I don't know exactly what the paper said. Did it mention Lex Luthor by name?"

Her throat tightened. "No. It did not."

Jimmy nodded. "Probably smart of Perry- in case someone guessed the connection between the two men. Anyways, Clark would probably be able to explain it better, but from what I know, Lex called him, told him he knew his identity, and threatened him with both a bomb and a threat against revealing him if he moved from his spot. Clark obliged, Luthor came in, caused some havoc, somehow got his hands on Lois Lane."

"Yes, that was in the article- Lois's kidnapping, that is. They said they still haven't found her." There was a slight look of fear in her eyes, as she glanced towards her son's sleeping form on the couch. She didn't want him to do anything stupid.

"Yeah, anyways, Clark got a little bit protective, and Luthor shot him." At the quizzical arch in her brow, he amended. "The bullets were made of kryptonite. It lodged itself directly into his shoulder, in the middle of some major vein or whatnot. Clark couldn't take that.

"Anyways, we discovered that there was a lot more kryptonite hidden around the office, and we- Perry and I, that is- discovered his true identity. By the time the doctors came, they operated on him to remove the bullet. They had to expose him to an immense amount of kryptonite to even cut him. He went into a short coma- about an hour and a half. Then he woke up, told Perry he had lost his powers, gone blind, and was poisoned by the kryptonite in his bloodstream. Then he came up with his plan, to fake his death in hopes of drawing out Luthor. He was supposed to call you, but then I discovered his other fears about flying and whatnot. . ." Jimmy shrugged at her surprised expression.

Clark had gotten up and painfully made his way over to the table they were sitting at, pouring himself some coffee as he went. "Best article I ever wrote, don't you think?" he supplied as he took his place at the table, with a slightly conceited air. His mother's jaw dropped. "Sorry," he added at the arrogance he displayed to his mother. He wasn't normally like that, but his brain was too fuzzy to think straight.

But that wasn't her concern. "_You_ wrote that article? About yourself?"

"Yeah, Ma. I do it all the time. Just it's usually about my other self. "

"But it listed Perry White's-"

"Perry's name went on the by-line. I wrote it so nothing incriminating would slip into the article about. . . the other me."

"B-but, your writing. . . won't Lex know-"

"All Lex should know is that I'm dead. Regardless of whether or not he believes it, that's what's been reported. And without my powers, Superman won't be on the scene, either. And maybe that will convince him. And then maybe I can save Lois."

"Clark," she took on a tone of motherly warning. "You need to focus on yourself right now. Get better. You won't ever do any good if you don't have your powers. Now I know what Ms. Lane means to you, and I understand, but you can't hold yourself entirely responsible if something happens-"

"It's not just that anymore, Ma. You don't understand. I _have_ to save her. For more than myself."

"Clark, a lot of people have families out there that need helped. You can't save every one of them- and you don't let it bother you then. I know you have a personal attachment to Miss Lane, but really, honey, you have to think about the bigger picture here-"

"She's more than just a crush, Mom!" he practically shouted at her, the expression on her face one of utter shock. Martha noticed the change in his term of endearment- from the affectionate "Ma" to "Mom". He only did that when he was really upset. She allowed herself to attribute it to the alcohol or the stress of the situation, but by the look in Clark's face- one of panic and fear- and his sudden looking down guiltily, she knew it was something more. And it was obviously something pretty big. Big enough to sacrifice Superman for.

Jimmy, before just an innocent bystander watching the whole affair, now saw it all fall into place. He realized with horror all at once why Clark looked so guilty, why Mrs. Kent just didn't understand.

_She doesn't know yet._

Part of him seethed. Jimmy's thoughts rolled on in a semi-conscious stream. _He should have told her sooner. The second he knew. Why didn't he tell her? How long did he know? He should have been there. Why wasn't he there for them?_ Suddenly Jimmy pulled himself out of the depths of his very incriminating thoughts and watched the silence continue. He shouldn't berate his friend like that, even in his thoughts. It obviously wasn't a lack of longing that had kept Clark from confessing all, to staying with Lois and Jason.

Finally, Mrs. Kent had the gumption to ask the question that had been eating at them all from the insides. "What do you mean?" she half-whispered.

Clark sighed and collapsed his head onto the table before him. He shouldn't have waited, not for any of this. He should have told her sooner that he had a son. He should have told Lois sooner that he was Superman. He should have been better prepared for Lex's attack. He should have never left.

So many things that he should have done; but that was irreversible now. He had to just sit down and bite the bullet- wincing internally at his ironic reference- and so he did.

"Ma, I. . . I mean. . . I-I'm sorry. . . I should have told you much sooner than this. I should have known much sooner than this. I- geez, this is a disaster. . . um, how can I put this. . ."

"Clark," she reached across the table with concern in her eyes, her hand resting on top of his own reassuringly. "Go on. You can tell me anything."

He looked up at her, then averted his eyes as the guilt of the next thing he knew he had to say weighed down upon his shoulders. There seemed to be something else entering into his countenance, something unfamiliar in his eyes as he shot another wary glance up at her. Finally he spoke the words he knew had to say.

"Mom, I. . . Jason is my son."

There was a stunned silence that filled the room. Clark refused to turn his gaze to his mother's face, scared by what he might find there. Shock, anger, consternation, rage. . .

"Clark Joseph Kent," she whispered mildly.

Wincing, he glanced up to face what wrath may come.

But to his complete surprise, she was smiling through the tears in her eyes.

"You have a son? Jason Lane is your son?"

At this, Clark straightened and that look returned into his eyes- one which Martha now recognized as fatherly pride. He embodied his entire Superman personna as he allowed a proud, taut smile to spread across his lips. "Yeah. He is." He felt his heart bursting with happiness at finally being able to tell someone, to express his joy to someone. He couldn't stay bottled up forever. The pride was killing him- but it was a different kind of pain, different from that of the kryptonite or the slight hangover he'd momentarily had.

Martha smiled at her son sweetly, but a hint of sadness was hidden in the creases of her eyes. Suddenly she understood everything, completely. His entire life was no longer a mystery. There were numerous questions still to be answered, and plenty of bones she still had to pick with him- but all that could wait. She wanted to be happy for him, even if it was for just a moment.

Eventually, Clark found the rest of his voice, and conscientiously added, "You're not mad at me?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Clark," she replied sincerely. "Of course I'm mad at you. But I don't want this moment to be ruined just yet. I want to have time to be happy over the fact that I have a grandchild before I make you bite down on a bar of kryptonite-soap," his mother added teasingly.

Clark however looked down and nodded guiltily. The scene was both touching and heartbreaking at once. Jimmy suddenly felt very intrusive of the private lives of mother and son. He shifted in his seat, wondering whether he should leave them to have their little talk or if that would just disturb them more. Torn, he was relieved that he didn't have to make that decision.

"Now Mr. Olsen, I'm sure the two of you must be starved, and thanks to the others out there who think I'm grieving, I have plenty of food here. What would you boys like?"

Jimmy thanked her with his eyes for changing the topic, at least in front of him. "Anything's fine, Mrs. Kent."

"Oh, please, call me Martha. After all, you know us so well now."

Jimmy blushed then looked down at his feet ashamedly. He knew about Jason before she had, he knew Clark's secret, knew he was still alive while she was allowed to think him dead. He didn't like that aspect of it, but everything else seemed sweet about her.

After dinner, Jimmy excused himself and tried to go for a hotel- but Martha would have none of it. He was put up in one of the guest bedrooms- though he protested that Clark should have the better room, Clark insisted that he liked his own bedroom best. And so he left the two alone, to catch up on everything they had left to discuss.

"Clark, it's late. You're tired, and you're hurt- and this is the first time in a long time that you're operating without your powers. You should get some rest."

"No, I want to talk to you about all this first. I recently discovered that. . . time seems to flow differently when I'm comatose, and I don't know how long I'll be out for if I fall asleep now, so please. Just hear me out."

Martha Kent smoothed her wrinkled pants as she sat on the porch swing, staring at her very lost son. "Alright then," she conceded. "Where do you want to start?"

Clark gulped. "Lois," he replied quietly, afraid to say her name. "And Jason. I think you probably should know a little bit about what happened there. . ."

"It was during the whole General Zod ordeal, wasn't it?" she asked abruptly, startling him enough to cause him to face her.

"Er. . . yes, but how-"

"Jason's about, what, five years old? And a little more than five years ago- probably closer to six- that whole General Zod thing happened. And Superman just up and disappeared for a couple of days- and there's no way you would've just gone and let all that happen without a reason. It might have been a stupid reason, sure, but in your lovestruck mind it was a reason."

"Ma, it didn't happen exactly like that."

"Really? Cause that sounds like something that would have happened. And I might even get it- not really, cause I don't know what you were doing with her in the first place seeing that you two weren't married or anything-"

"Mom, please. Let me explain."

"Alright, fine. I'm all ears."

"Perry sent Lois and I on some fluff piece for the Planet, where we had to pose as a newly-wed couple, up at Niagra Falls, and it was a really romantic atmosphere-"

"-And off came the glasses and the pants and you two made love to each other for days on end and-"

"MOM! No! Please, just hear me out, okay? I know you don't like this, but, please, I need you to understand what happened so you don't think this is something I'm gonna do every time, as a spur of the moment sort of thing."

She cast him a dubious, irritated glance. "I raised my son to be a gentleman, Clark, not some sort of player-"

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry, okay? You can't stay mad at me forever for this. Besides, this is your grandchild we're talking about here."

With that she shut her mouth and her features softened. "I know, Clark. And no matter what, I would never wish that away from you or Lois. Or even me. I never thought I'd be able to have grandchildren- never thought I'd be able to have children, for that matter. I am happy you've given me that." She gave him a soft smile, which her son returned proudly with tears glistening in his eyes.

"Well, anyways. Lois figured out who I was. She devised a bunch of tests to see if I really was Superman, and I managed to save her without getting caught the first two times. But the third time there was no escape."

"What'd she do?"

"Well, the first time she drew a pair of glasses and a suit over a picture of Superman in the paper. Then she jumped over the railing at Niagra Falls. The third time, I stumbled and tripped and fell into the firepit in our hotel room. . . and I didn't get burned. That's when I took off my glasses, she admitted that she loved me, and I flew her up North, to the fortress, mainly to introduce her to my Kryptonian parents, but also to kind of show off. Anyways, I was informed that if I ever wanted to be with her, I had to sacrifice something. Something. . . big."

He hesitated. His mother prompted him onward, curious and scared at what he was about to tell her. "What was it Clark?"

Letting out a small sigh, he sat down on the porch and placed his head in his hands, running them through his hair. "My powers," he spoke quietly, as though he feared it more than anything now.

Martha paled as it all clicked into place. Why he didn't go save the world when Zod came in, why no one had heard from him for those few days. Why Lois now had Clark's five year old son. "So, it wasn't that you didn't come to the rescue, you couldn't?"

He nodded sullenly. "Yeah. After all that, Lois and I made our way over to some godforsaken truck stop, where for the first time in my life I was really beat up. Then I heard the news report, and I realized what I had done. I couldn't sacrifice the world for one person. Even if I loved her.

"After that all happened, with Zod and Luthor kidnapping Lois, and me getting my powers back- I came to see that it was necessary for me to live a self-sacrificing life. I was doomed to it. Lois struggled with the concept, I mean she was in really bad shape. I was afraid for a moment I was gonna lose her forever. And so," suddenly he quieted, not wanting to go on. "And so I did something bad," he spoke like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

Martha straightened. "Clark, I'm pretty sure we've gotten through the worst of it. What else could you have done that's bad?"

Once again, Superman found he couldn't match the gaze of the little old lady staring him down on the front porch of a farm. "I'm serious, if you thought your son wasn't a gentleman before, you're really gonna flip out."

"Clark, spit it out already."

He breathed in deeply, prepared for anything that might come, but honestly hoping she wasn't as mad about this as she was about the whole making love to a woman without being married thing. "I took away her memories. Didn't let her remember anything: that Clark Kent was Superman, that General Zod had gone and kidnapped her- the entire incident with Zod and Luthor. . . Ab-about Jason's conception." He diverted his gaze once more, finding an ant crawling across the floorboards next to him more interesting than anything else.

Martha Kent looked horrified. "Y-you took those memories? Even of. . . you know? What happened between the two of you?"

Clark nodded ashamedly. "Yes."

"And you left her, with child- with _your_ child!- wondering how she even got pregnant, let alone what happened to Superman and Clark Kent simultaneously?"

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled. Clark appeared to get smaller and smaller as she listed his accusations against him.

"CLARK JOSEPH KENT!"

He winced as though he had been slapped. "I know, mom, I know. It was a bad move. I regret it everytime I think about that kiss that stole her memories."

"WITH A CHILD, CLARK!"

"I didn't know about Jason, Mom! I swear, if I had, you know I would never have left. I just left because. . . I couldn't deal with the fact that I knew what we had and she went on as though nothing had happened between us- Clark once again going completely unnoticed. Do you have any idea what kind of torture that was? It was agony! And then coming back, hearing she'd moved on, had a son and was engaged- I was in the depths of despair, Ma! What else could I have done?"

"Waited until she started showing before you left?"

"You know I didn't know! Besides, I didn't even think it was possible for me to even have kids. I'm an _alien_, remember?" His tone was bitter as he spat the last words.

Martha sighed, understanding her son's logic, but not in the least condoning any of it. "Alright. So what happened with the rest of it? More recently, I mean? How did you figure out he was your son?"

"Lois and Jason were kidnapped by none other than Lex Luthor- on accident really, you know how Lois can get with all of her snooping and antics. . ." he realized very suddenly that his mother had never even met the love of his life, and the mother of his child, and let that sentence drop. "Um, I guess, Luthor waved some kryptonite in his face, and he was minorly affected by it. What sealed the deal was when he apparently threw a piano at one of the thugs that was trying to kill Lois. He killed him." Clark choked up, knowing that, had he been around, he would have been able to train him younger, prepare him for his life with superpowers- teach him other ways to. . . take care of people. "Anyways, right then and there both Lois and Luthor knew that he was my son, not Richard's. And now they're paying for it."

Martha let him contemplate in silence for a moment before breaking in. "And he knows that you're-"

"Yeah. He claims to have known since after I left, both of me, and realized how much made sense. Lex didn't think I was "stupid enough" to come back as Clark, too. Not on the same day, anyways. So he took what little I had, and crushed it."

"Lois is alright?"

"As far as I know, she is for now. Jason's staying with Perry for a while, since Richard's out of town. I hope everything stays okay until I get better."

She nodded in agreement, knowing that now that they had cleared the air, he should get some rest. As soon as possible. She walked over to her tortured son, sat next to him, and placed a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. He glanced back at her through his thick glasses, looking somewhat defeated. "Thank you, Clark," she whispered, the emotion coating her throat thickly. Suddenly, she pulled him into a warm embrace.

"For what?" he managed to choke out.

"For everything," she smiled at her son proudly. "I know you're a good boy. And I know you deserve to have a life, and real relationships, and a family. I wouldn't trade what you've given me for the world, Clark. And I know you'll save the day. You always do."

That was just what he wanted to hear, and he didn't care that his tears dripped freely onto his glasses, clouding his vision. He had a moment of solace in his mother's arms.

"Now, get to bed, or I'll ground you," she teased, ruffling his hair, one stubborn curl breaking free of the rest of his hair. She smiled genuinely, seeing both Superman and Clark Kent as one and the same. Very few people ever got to see this, and she was proud to call him her son, despite all his flaws.

He sighed good-humoredly and obliged to his mother's request. "Fine, but don't try to wake me up for a while. Maybe a few days perhaps. We'll see how this goes."

They walked into the house together, peaceful once again.

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N:** Told you it was long! I love that so many people are reading my story! I appreciate any and all reviews you can leave for me, and I'll try to keep posting often! Stay tuned for more drama, hopefully Clark can manage to pull his life back together in a somewhat normal state, we'll see what he wants to do next (and yes, I am thoroughly acknowledging the fact that this story is no longer my own but that of the charaters'. . . after a certain amount of time goes by in any story, the characters come to life, and become living, breathing things that happen to make their own decesions and frequently leave my own personal opinions behind. The one thing that I both absolutely love and simultaneously hate about writing). =D

**R&R!**

Loves to you all!


	6. Chapter 6: Eyes Too Blue

**A/N:** OKay, so this chap's nowhere near as long as that last one (whew, I meant to break it up better, but I just couldn't find a good split in that whole darn chapter. . . ) Anyways, this is just to let you know of one tiny little fact: THAT I DID NOT FORGET ABOUT RICHARD! *cough cough* ok, so I left him out of the first couple chapters, I really did mean to drag him in somewhere in the middle, but I couldn't find the right place where he would fit and I still wasn't decided on what I wanted for his relationship with Lois (poor Richard- I don't think there's anywhere he truly fits. . . he really is "a good man," despite the fact that I kinda sorta hate (and at the same time love) him, but oh well. He's almost too good a guy- he doesn't deserve the Superman universe to treat him so poorly. Why don't you go find Gotham, Richard? What? You're uncle's Perry White? I'm sure he'll understand. He sees the havoc you're wreaking on this movie franchise and he's frustrated that the controversy isn't selling more papers. . . .).

**Disclaimer:** I own the Superman Returns DVD, two disk edition. It has a cool, shiny plastic slip-cover-ish-thing that when you tilt it, the picture changes three times. . . i just spent about half an hour trying to look up what the "official" name for that was, but to no avail. Anyways, as far as Superman goes, that's about all I own. Oh, and some DC superhero capes that my family and I won down at Magic Mountain one time. It's great fun pretending to be Batman disguised as Superman when you layer up all the capes and do MEGA-REVEALS in the privacy of your own home. And yes, if you take me up on that idea, do that at home. I take no responsibility if you decide to take that stunt and perform it in public. :D

*****Chapter Six: Eyes Too Blue*****

The moment Richard heard about Lois- and then about Clark's death- he immediately caught the first flight home from Cairo. He contemplated everything in his mind as he practically ran up to Perry's office, cursing the elevator for being so slow.

He was concerned about his family- about Lois, about Jason. Even though he had just learned that they weren't really his family- Jason was Superman's son, and Lois had been growing more distant as the three weeks since _he_ first came back. Gone for five years, left her with child, and she still had feelings reserved for the man. He shook his head, sobering his thoughts and consenting that no matter whose family they were, he was still apart of their lives, and he loved them regardless. Especially when tragedies like this struck.

As he approached the door to his uncle's office, smiling at his s- at Jason, he amended, he turned his thoughts to the other tragedy that had taken place just outside this office. His eyes turned to the section of the bullpen that had been roped off- both out of respect and for trace amounts of evidence. His stomach lurched as his eyes were drawn to the blood stains on the floor- the carpet had not yet been replaced, and it was terrible to think that one man doing the right thing had sacrificed his life in an effort to defend the innocent people around him, and try to talk some sense into a maniac the likes of Luthor.

And now he was dead. It was too bad- Clark had seemed like such a nice guy. To be gunned down in his own office by none other than Lex Luthor, for no apparent reason: it was barbaric. Even for Luthor. Sure, he understood kidnapping Lois, knowing as everyone did that she would be the best way to call Superman out. But Clark? What was his issue with him? After all, the man had only just returned from his five year trip around the world, and it seemed to Richard that he didn't have any connections whatsoever before he had left.

There was something to that line of thought, but Richard couldn't quite place his finger on it. That was when he realized his uncle had been speaking to him for a minute already and he hadn't caught a word of it. "I'm sorry, Uncle Perry. What were you saying?"

His editor-in-chief's features softened as he realized how abrupt he had been with his nephew. "Aw, Richard. I'm sorry. How you holding up with all this? Must be rough, your fiancee getting kidnaped and her friend and partner being murdered. . ." Perry paused, not sure if he should disclose Clark's secrets to his nephew. After all, it was an intensely personal matter, and he wasn't sure if Richard even knew about Jason's parentage yet.

"No, no. It's alright. It's just. . . a bit overwhelming right now, that's all." He gulped wondering if he should break the news about him and Lois splitting up. They had decided just last week- _last week_- to break off their engagement. They still took it slow, not wanting to stir up rumors about Superman or Lois, and that was why Lois still wore her ring and Richard had ran off to do the international news coverage in Egypt. But perhaps it was time his uncle knew, so as to handle some press control.

But Perry broke in before he could voice his thoughts. "You sure you're okay?"

Now or never. Richard sighed. "Yeah, Perry. It's just. . . weird. It's the second time Lois has been kidnapped in less than a month, and we're having a lot of. . . issues lately. . . mainly over-" he stopped himself, wondering if he should tell his uncle once again. _Hey, that little boy in the corner over there is Superman's son, not mine._ But he felt as if it wasn't his secret to tell. That was for Lois and Superman himself to disclose. "It's just," he decided to go with a somewhat honest response. "Lois and I aren't going to be engaged anymore, Perry." he had lowered his voice, as though concerned someone would hear him.

Perry White immediately understood, and nodded. "I figured as much," he muttered. "So," he added a little bit louder, but still quiet enough that no one beyond his office could hear, "You know then?"

Richard reeled, at a loss for words. His uncle had figured it out before he had. "Um, what do you mean?"

His uncle cast a meaningful glance over at Jason, playing in the office next door, and Richard knew it for sure now. "Um, yeah," he mumbled. "I found out about two and a half weeks ago. We were still trying to make it work then, but we decided before I left that it was pretty much over. I loved her, but Lois. . . she still had some. . . hang ups about the other guy. How long have you known?"

Perry looked at the floor. "I found out the day Luthor kidnaped Lois and shot Clark. But heck, even your eyes aren't that blue."

Richard nodded, glancing at the headline for the morning's paper, in an effort to avoid that bitter line of thought. _No, his eyes are just a bit too blue for them to be mine. _He forced himself to reread the headline, allowing the words "Reporter Killed" to guilt him out of thinking so selfishly. Then he thought of his poor uncle, understanding the turmoil his closest family member must have gone through that day. Everything must have been so shocking, and everything at once, too. His chest tightened as the words entered his mind once again, realizing what he'd just thought to himself: _closest family member_. Even his own subconscious had betrayed him. He had no son anymore. Not biologically, anyways. And he still didn't know what Superman would say to having him around or not.

"It's too bad. About Kent. He seemed like a nice guy," Richard threw out there.

Perry nodded. "He was the best reporter I'd ever had, second only to Lois Lane herself. And he was one hell of a typist. Sure, he was iffy on the deadline thing, but what he did ever turn in was never not worth reading." He laughed softly. "And he was an excellent speller. Unlike Lois."

Richard hadn't realized his uncle had cared so strongly for his now deceased reporter. Sure, he had heard many regaled tales of the infamous, Lane-Kent dynamic duo, but rarely anything about the man himself.

It suddenly struck Richard that perhaps he had liked it that way. He didn't seem to care a whole lot when no one spoke to him upon his return, he just slipped back into his place, operating at Lois and Jimmy's sides effortlessly. And for them, it was like no time had passed at all- it was like things had never changed. Nothing was ever said about Clark, about his personal life, only that he was a great reporter who worked with Lois Lane- and Lois was the _best_ reporter, have you heard of her? And then Clark's name had once again worked its way out of the conversation, unnoticed, unspeculated on. Nothing. Richard felt guilty at never having gotten to know the man better. Did he have any family? Anybody to care for him? A home to go to?

It shook him that a man could be so well known and yet still remain invisible.

People around the office, despite the fact that they didn't really embrace Clark upon his return, obviously felt the horror of it, too. To think that an average guy like Clark who never did anything bad to anyone, ever, could be taken from them so swiftly and unexpectedly- the entire office was shaken to its core. Richard felt it even after midnight when everyone had already left. There was an eery silence that filled the room, even at their busiest time of day. It was strange how one loss could change so much.

He shook his head in an effort to change the topic. "Anyways, so, any news about the whereabouts of Lois and Lex Luthor? They can't have disappeared entirely. I mean, has Superman found anything out yet?" His voice was a little bit forced at the mention of Superman's name, but for Lois, and for Jason, he had to resort to every means possible.

Perry seemed taken aback for a moment, before recovering. "Uh, no. No he hasn't."

"I mean, there was no mention of him in the papers, and I haven't heard anything on tv to prove that he's even looking for her," his tone became bitter. "You'd think the guy would care that the mother of his child went missing."

"Well, maybe we don't know the whole story," Perry got a little defensive, which startled Richard.

"What do you mean?"

Suddenly their conversation was interrupted by a screaming noise coming from the adjoining office. Both men rushed in to see what was wrong.

"Jason? Are you alright? What happened, munchkin?" Richard grew panicked as he saw his son folded in half on the floor, gripping his head tightly and covering his ears. His eyes were shut tightly. "Jason?"

"Make it stop, daddy," he shouted in order to be heard.

"Make what stop?" His father had a genuinely confused look on his face as he held his little boy in his arms- even though he acknowledged the fact that he wasn't really his little boy anymore.

"STOP SHOUTING!" he screamed and pushed him away forcefully as he once again clamped down on his eardrums.

Richard was pushed a ways back, thankful that the blinds to this room were closed. Who knew what rumors would get started if anybody happened to walk into the Planet offices and saw a five year old boy push Richard away and across the room? Not to mention all the screaming would definitely set off some alarm bells. Even though he knew no one else would be there at this late hour. The only people who ever stayed this late were gone: Lois kidnaped, Clark dead, Jimmy sending his condolences to Mrs. Kent in Smallville.

The screams turned to sobs as his son began rocking himself back and forth in an effort to comfort himself. Richard looked at his son bewildered. Perry finally spoke up, softly. "Um, Richard? I think I know what's going on here."

"What? By all means, tell me."

"Superman has superhearing, correct?"

Suddenly it all flooded over Richard. He was hearing things, things no one else but one man on the planet could hear. Slowly, flabbergasted, he nodded.

"I think we're gonna need to borrow you're plane, son."

Richard looked at him quizzically, then realized that maybe taking to the skies they could find Superman- where was the guy anyways? He would be the only one able to help Jason cope with this.

The three of them walked out of the office casually, considering that it was near midnight and everyone else had pretty much left. Jason cried into his dad's shoulder as they called for a taxi to Richard's house- their house still, he reminded himself- and boarded the airplane.

The moment the three of them got into the air, Jason's cries turned into whimpers, the noise dying down as they got farther and farther away from the ground. He could still hear it all, plain as day, but at least it wasn't bombarding him like it had been in the office. He cried himself to sleep, and Richard smiled sadly as he cast a glance back at the huddled form of his five year old.

"Alright, Perry, where to? What would be the best place to take him you think? Probably not the city, somewhere out of the way where there wasn't as much noise- Perry?"

His uncle sat quietly, knowing what he had to do, but not wanting to do it, to reveal everything so suddenly. It would quite upset his nephew he knew, but it had to be done.

"Smallville," he finally replied.

Richard raised a quizzical brow at the man. "Smallville? As in Kansas? Where Clark was from?" Perry didn't comment on the fact that Smallville was _not_ where he was from, but rather nodded, keeping to himself for the moment. Richard shrugged. "I guess it's as good a place as any. Maybe we could pay our regards to Mrs. Kent while we're there." Perry still refrained from responding. "And it's definitely in the middle of nowhere. Alright. Smallville it is."

And they flew for a while in silence, Perry not knowing where or how to begin, and Richard just zoning out. It was four am. No person in the world should be up at this ungodly hour.

And yet, Clark Kent was.

He hadn't been. In fact, he had been in a pretty darn deep state of coma when he'd heard the screams. Those screams, from thousands of miles away, had roused him from his coma, fighting to wake up for the sake of his son.

_Jason._ At first, Clark had woken up screaming himself, echoing his son's reaction. But as he realized why the boy was screaming, he relaxed- but only a little. He heard him say "make it stop" and his heart sunk. He was gaining his ability to hear. And once again, Clark wasn't there.

His mom and Jimmy both rushed into his room at the same time, both fearful at what would make him scream like that. "Clark, honey, what's wrong?" She snapped on the light and he shielded his eyes, groaning. The moment those lights came on he lost track of his son's voice. Sighing, he moved to sit on the edge of his bed, cradling his head in his hands. "Sweetie?" she added with concern. She noted with a mild amount of distress the scar on his side and the bullet wound in his shoulder as he sat there in only some pajama pants. She seethed with a silent rage for Lex Luthor and was overwhelmed by the pain she felt for her little boy.

"I'm fine now, Ma. Just. . . a bad dream," he decided to reply on the safe side.

"Don't you lie to me anymore, Clark Kent. Now what's wrong for real? You shouldn't have woken up from your coma for about anything. What happened?"

He bit his lip nervously. "I heard something. Jason."

Martha felt her heart drop and her hopes rise simultaneously: the first out of concern for her grandson- _grandson_, she reminded herself happily- and the latter out of hope for Clark regaining his powers. "Is he alright?"

"He was screaming. He's starting to. . . hear things. Like I can. He was begging to make it stop, and then he simmered down a little bit, and then you guys walked in, and I lost it again."

"But you could hear, for a little bit anyways, right?" Jimmy asked hopefully.

Clark nodded. "Yeah. It's been coming and going in random spurts- ever since I heard Ma sobbing to you earlier. This makes two times."

"Well, that's a plus. At least we know now that you're going to get your powers back- hopefully," Jimmy amended at the dubious glance Clark cast him. Clark himself was a bit pessimistic about the situation, but he decided to let Jimmy have his hope for now.

"Well, since all that's over with for the time being, Clark, you need to get back to sleep. You have to if you want to recover at all."

He nodded, his eyelids already drooping as he slid back under the covers with a slight shiver. "I know," he muttered as he allowed his eyes to slip shut, though his brow remained furrowed with concern. "G'night."

Jimmy walked away, satisfied that his friend wasn't dying again, but Martha Kent stayed for a moment, making sure his breathing slowed to a very low rate. If she didn't, she feared he would get up and begin roaming the house insteadm out of worry, and then he would never get better. She stroked the errant curl from his forehead gently as he sunk deeper into his coma-like sleep, proudly staring down at him with tears in her eyes. How many things did he have to sacrifice for the world? His family, his happiness- even his life. It was too much to ask.

Finally, she sighed, and she walked out the door, shutting off the lights as she went.

Little did they know that within a couple of hours or so, Perry and Richard White, along with Jason, would come knocking at their door.

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N:** Read. Review. Make my day. Save Clark's powers.


	7. Chapter 7: Not Like He's Superman

**A/N:** Okay, so I like this story, a lot, and I especially like wreaking havoc onto these characters. But against my better judgement, I am going to end this super-long chapter on a happy note. I don't like leaving things so happy. Maybe by the end I'll take pity on you poor people and give you the happy ending you so deserve, but much like Cecily ( in _The Importance of Being Earnest_), "I don't like novels that end happily. They depress me so much." =) Okay, so I'm not that extreme, and in the deepest parts of my soul, all I really want is some fluffy, sappy, romantic crap to lift my spirits up, up and away. . .

. . . But I do enjoy dragging The Kent-Lane-White's through the mud along the way. :]*evil smiley* BTW, Sunday is the Oscars (YAY!), so I may or may not upload more this weekend.

**Disclaimer:** Guess what? I own Superman now! I totally just rang up Christopher Nolan, and then we totally went to coffee together and also met with David Goyer and Zack Snyder and we were having a blast and they gave me the rights, and everything was totally perfect. . . and then Henry Caville walked in. _Buzzkill_. When I asked where Brandon Routh was, they told me their new plans for the reboot, which I hope for the sake of Superman works out, but I was so disappointed that I returned the paperwork. No more copyrights for me. :( Oh well. A girl's gotta have _some_ standards.

**Disclaimer #2:** I am also a member of Pathological Liars Anonymous. (*SNL reference*).

**Disclaimer #3:** In case you missed out on the blatant sarcasm there, the previous disclaimers read: _I Do Not Own Superman._

*****Chapter Seven: Not Like He's Superman*****

It was probably close to six-thirty am when they drove up to the Kent's farm, in a rental car they had to wait an hour and a half for (since the shop hadn't opened until six). Jason was asleep in the back once again, the noise appearing to have either died down or he had stopped hearing things. Richard didn't know how to feel about the whole situation. Neither did Perry, for that matter.

Perry knew he had to tell him the truth. They could easily walk up to the door and be confronted by Clark Kent face-to-face: and that would be harder to explain then than it would be now, he knew. So finally, he broke the ice.

"Richard, you know I care about you. And that I want to protect you from anything. You're like a son to me."

His nephew cast him a confused glance. "Yeah?" he asked warily.

"And you know that. . . if I kept something from you, that it would be for the best interest of everyone involved. Even if it meant, hurting your feelings to protect someone else, you know I would never intentionally hurt you, right?"

"Uncle Perry, you're kind of worrying me here," he stated jokingly, but it seemed forced. What was his uncle hiding? "What's this all about?"

Perry looked nervous suddenly, and twidled his thumbs. "It's about Clark. Clark Kent."

Curious, he stared at his uncle before leaving the stop sign. "What about him?" He took a swig of his coffee that they had bought on their way over here.

"I-I-I don't know how to say this really. . . but, you see, he's. . . he's not really dead."

Richard slammed on his brakes at the next stop sign and spewed his coffee out at the dashboard. Perry winced, ready for the questions to come. "WHAT?" He paused, waiting for some reply on Perry's part. When none came, he continued. "You know, Perry, that's a really sick joke. The man was shot, and here you are claiming that he's still alive? That is sick."

"It's not a joke, Richard," he spoke calmly, not at all like his editor-in-chief side that bellowed out orders and curses as though he were ordering a meal. Serious Perry was something one rarely ever saw.

Richard glanced back at Jason as he stirred, but did not wake from his sleep. "B-but. . . how? I saw the blood, and the papers reported on it- h-how is that even remotely possible?"

"The article was Clark's idea," he said quietly. "He wanted to make it convincing. If we ever wanted to have a chance at saving Lois, Lex Luthor had to believe he had killed Clark Kent. That's why all the secrecy."

"But why? Why Clark? What does he have against the man?"

Perry stared at his nephew and shook his head. "I'm sorry. You'll have to wait and have Kent explain that to you. It's not my place to tell."

This floored Richard. Perry White was the editor of the world's most famous newspaper, and he was as nosy as any person got- perhaps even as nosy as Lois was. For him to step back and refuse to get involved was a huge deal. Finally he shook his head. "So is that why we came here, to Smallville? To check on Kent?"

"I suppose you could put it that way," Perry replied enigmatically. Realizing he wasn't going to get anything more out of the stubborn old man next to him, he continued to drive until they reached the farm with the mailbox labeled "KENT" in bold, black letters on it. As he parked, Richard stared at the little old farmhouse and sighed. How could any of this happen? It made no sense to him. He couldn't wrap his brain around the idea. And here he was, moping over the man's death.

"Well, uncle, you were right about one thing. Clark Kent is one hell of a reporter."

He unclicked Jason from the back seat and carried him on his shoulder. Perry followed close behind, and for a moment, Richard hesitated. Something was definitely not right here. What, he didn't know, but it was sure something.

Then he knocked. Five slight raps. It took a moment for anyone to respond- it was still early. But eventually a tired-looking old lady with red eyes came to the door. "Yes?" she asked groggily.

"Uh, hi, Mrs. Kent? My name's Richard White, this is my Uncle Perry and my son Jason. We work at the Daily Planet with Clark and-"

Suddenly her eyes widened and she took a step back in shock, her hand flying to her heart. She glanced between the two men with wide-eyed shock and at the same time, knowing. Speechless, she gestured for them to come in, which they obliged. Richard laid Jason down on the sofa gently, giving Martha a first real look at her grandson.

Her heart leapt to her throat as she saw him.

He looked just like Clark.

It was practically spitting image. The little boy reminded her so much of her own son at that age, and the revelation practically scared her stiffless. She suddenly realized she was staring at him, and forced her eyes away. Richard looked at her confusedly, wondering why she had taken such interest in his son, but then she offered them something to eat and he brushed it away.

But Perry knew why she was staring. She knew. She had to. The way she had reacted when she heard the name, and saw his face- there was no doubt in his mind that all this woman was thinking was how good it was to finally meet her grandson.

They spoke very little through breakfast, all of them feeling the awkward tension in the room, Richard not really understanding why. Was it on his account? He didn't know, and as soon as he had eaten he asked for directions to the restroom, to which she gladly pointed, and he came back to see the two of them whispering conspiratorally about something. He heard them mention Clark's name twice and his once before clearing his throat to draw their attention.

"In case you're wondering, yes, I know about Clark."

Martha Kent's eyes widened. "You do? But Mr. White was just telling me that you didn't."

"He knows Clark's alive, Mrs. Kent," Perry amended, and suddenly it registered in her brain what he said.

"Oh. That's different then."

"What's different?" he asked, thoroughly confused at the two cryptic older people.

"You should let Clark explain, dear. Once he wakes up."

"That's what Perry said, too. And how is he still asleep? We've been making a quite a bit of noise down here, and I'm not sure why you guys are hiding something from me. I mean, what's the big secret? So the guy didn't die by getting shot. So what? It's not like he's Superman or. . . something. . ." his voice trailed off as he thought about his last statement. Looking into Martha Kent's eyes, he knew he had hit the nail on the nose. "Is he?" he practically whispered, his world seeming to fall apart from under him.

Their non-response told him everything he needed to know.

"Oh. My. God." He couldn't seem to raise his voice above the level of a whisper. Suddenly he realized why Perry had told him to take Jason to Smallville for his hearing problems: his father was staying there.

Jason. The revelations just kept on coming, compounding one on top of the other. That was why Martha had been staring at Jason, why she seemed so surprised. Why Perry had decided to let him find out on his own about Clark, not expose everything about the man of steel. Why they had faked his death, because Superman wouldn't die.

Wait-

"But I saw the blood in the office," he questioned, the reporter inside of him coming to the fore. "How-"

"Luthor really did shoot him, and he really did almost die." Perry glanced at Martha, not sure how much she was aware of with regards to what happened. Suddenly he realized the burden Clark had to carry- not being able to tell anyone what happened to him, trying to protect those closest to him without giving anything away. He knew one thing for sure; he didn't envy the boy anymore.

"But doesn't that mean Luthor would have to know that Clark Kent is really Superman?" he lowered his voice significantly on that last word.

It was Martha he joined in this time. "Clark and Lex grew up together. Lex was sent out here when he was about nine years old, away from his parents, and Clark befriended him. Needless to say, they had a falling out. Apparently though, he never realized Clark was Superman until the last time he had Luthor put behind bars, right before he disappeared."

Richard sat down in shock. Nobody spoke for a while, allowing Richard to think in silence. He spoke up automatically. "He's his son, you know," he said softly to Martha.

She nodded and smiled sadly back at the man. "Yes, I know."

"How long have you known?" he asked, suddenly inquisitive again.

She looked down crossly at her plate, before placing a slight smile on her face and collecting the dishes from before them all. "He told me last night. How about you?"

Suddenly Richard felt terrible for prying. He hadn't even told his own mother. . . perhaps he really hadn't known beforehand, and now he just found a way to explain to her. He stared at the little old lady scraping the dishes with the water running over them, her stiff form giving away her emotions on the matter. She kind of reminded him of Lois, boiling and brewing under the surface until she just burst forth with anger. But it looked to him that she had already gotten the majority of it out of her system as she spared him a glance and a small smile. "But it doesn't matter whether he told me or not. I would have recognized him any day as Clark's son."

The words "Clark's son" rang through his mind, and in that moment everything became very real. He realized suddenly how easy it would be for him to just swoop in and take everything that Richard had once called his own. He wasn't merely a superhero on the run anymore, he was a man with a life to live. And now he had a way to live it. "How?" he managed to ask, puzzled.

Martha Kent smiled and turned off the faucet, walking out of the room for a minute before returning with a picture frame in her hands. As she handed it over to him, Richard felt his jaw fall open in shock.

Perry let out a low whistle. "Wow. Freaky almost."

Richard had to agree with his uncle on this count.

Staring back at him from the picture frame was a boy who could have been Jason's twin, it was so like him. At first, he had almost wanted to ask how it was she got a picture of his son, but the boy was sitting happily on a tractor, perhaps a little bit younger than Jason himself, and the corner of the photograph the number 1971 was listed.

Richard was flabbergasted by the resemblance. Suddenly he heard Jason's voice behind him, causing him to jump out of his skin.

"Is that me? I don't remember taking that picture."

Richard felt his throat close up and his chest tighten. They hadn't told Jason about Superman- Clark, that is- being his biological father. "Uh-um. . ."

"What's going on? I heard some familiar voices and I came downstairs to check it out."

Saved by the bell. Or rather, saved by Superman. Richard gritted his teeth, then realized how impolite he was being. This man had saved their lives- saved the world- on numerous occasions. He had no reason to be ungrateful. And it was practically impossible to hate Superman. Even if he was Jason's real father.

Richard turned around to face Clark Kent, surprised to find that neither Clark nor Superman stood before him. It was someone in between. The man stood shirtless before them all at the breakfast table, his well-chiselled, broad chest very obvious, wearing only pajama pants- Batman pants, Richard noted with a slight smile. And wearing glasses.

Glasses. The only thing standing between the truth and the rest of the world. He shook his head, taking in the sight with awe and total shock. He turned back to the table and gave Perry a look, who either missed it completely or, more likely than not, completely ignored it. This time, looking at the man of steel, he noticed two scars: one on his side, kind of faint, but nonetheless present; and the second on his shoulder, where a bullet had recently pierced his skin. It looked swollen and red, irritated by something. Richard decided that even though the man may be getting what he wanted for himself, he did not look with an eye of jealousy upon those scars, knowing how hard it would be to sacrifice oneself for the world over and over again.

He shuddered. Clark stared at Richard for a minute, then shot his mother a look that seemed to say, _Does he know?_, to which she nodded her head. Clark still eyed the man warily, as if to size him up and wonder what he would do with this information.

"It's okay, Clark," Richard finally tried. "You don't need the glasses anymore. Your cover's been blown. But I swear I won't tell anyone- if not for your sake, then for Jason's." He gave a pained, friendly smile to Clark who accepted it with a sheepish smile in return. "Go ahead, no disguise necessary."

Suddenly Clark looked down at his feet, slouching over and frowning slightly, looking very much like Clark Kent and not Superman in that moment. "It's not a disguise right now, Richard. I need them. To see."

The import of the hero's words were not lost on the reporter. Superman couldn't see. . . "Wait, does that mean that you don't have-"

Clark bit his lip and nodded, cutting him off before replying. "Yeah. I'm kind of in a pickle, here. I need to get back to normal, and fast."

"Speaking of which, you should be back in bed this minute, young man. You're supposed to rest. What are you doing up again? I thought these comas were so hard to wake you from."

"It's not my fault, Ma," he whined like a child, and Richard and Perry couldn't help but laugh. "Really. It's just that I keep hearing these noises and they're waking me up. I was in a deep sleep, but. . ." his voice trailed off as he suddenly set his eyes on Jason. His son. His son was there, at his farm, sneaking a cookie from the jar on the counter behind everyone, hoping not to get caught. Suddenly he broke into a wide, goofy-looking grin, and they all couldn't help but look at the object of his attention.

They all reacted differently. Martha with pride and joy at seeing her son so happy. Perry with awe and wonder that the man of steel could be so sensitive and loving for his little boy, wondering still also at the fact that he even had a son. And Richard. . .

Richard was a mix of emotions. For one, he was stabbed to the heart that the man got the chance to have the son that he could never fully have. On the other hand, seeing the complete and utter joy on his face broke his heart, because he knew right then and there that he would have to give it all up for Superman. He had to, if it was what the rest of them wanted. The joy in Clark's face said it all, and despite all of Richard's ill-will towards the man of steel, he deserved to have a life to enjoy, a family to cherish him. The man sacrificed himself on a daily basis for people he didn't even know.

Jason, suddenly aware of all the eyes on him, turned and looked at them sheepishly.

_How could he have never seen it before?_ Perry wondered to himself as he saw the similarities between the two of them.

"Hiya, Jason," Clark said with emotion in his voice.

"Hi, Mr. Clark," he responded, noting the glasses on the man's face. Then he realized. "Mr. CLARK!" He ran up to him and jumped into Clark's arms, Clark catching him with remarkable ease. "Oh, Mr. Clark! I knew you weren't dead! I just knew it! I knew that Superman couldn't die- and then I heard you talking with someone late last night- arguing really- and I was glad you were okay and then I started to hear everything all at once and I felt terrible," he curled up against Clark's shoulder, sniffling.

"Sh-sh-shh. It's okay. Everything's okay now. I'm here, and I'm perfectly alright." He patted him on the back and held him close, despite the fact that his shoulder was aching from the weight of holding his child in his arms. But there was no way that he was going to let go of his son, so long as he wanted to be hugged and held.

Oblivious to everything- and everyone- else in the room, he gave his son a quick kiss on the top of his head, falling easily into the role of a father. The collective opinion of everyone else present was touched by the scene, noting once again how similar the two looked. Martha teared up at the view of her son and grandson hugging sweetly. Perry smiled and looked away, giving father and son a moment to bond. Richard's heart dropped as he both envied and felt sympathy for Clark Kent. He deserved this.

Suddenly, Clark broke away. "What exactly did you hear?"

"I heard you apologizing for something, then your mother yelling your full name at you-" he allowed himself a little chuckle here. "Clark Joseph Kent. That's a funny name."

Clark looked mock offended. "I happen to like that name."

Jason giggled again. "Anyways, that was the last thing I heard before I started to hear everything." He frowned. "It was weird, and kind of scary. Does that happen to you sometimes?"

Clark smiled sadly. "Yes, a lot of times, actually."

"Oh. Does it hurt?"

"It used to," he amended. "But I learned how to fix that."

His eyes went wide. "Really? How? Will you teach me? Please?"

Clark smiled with a hint of sadness. "I'll try."

"Can you take me flying too?"

Clark's expression darkened then. "I'm afraid not, kiddo. Not yet anyways. You see, I'm hurt pretty badly. A bad man- Lex Luthor- shot me with kryptonite. I'm okay now, I won't die from it, but it's just that I don't have my powers right now."

Jason's eyes went big. "You don't?" he whispered. Clark shook his head mournfully.

"That's why I need to get some rest before I can do anything really important or big. I can teach you a little about the hearing thing, but everything else will have to wait. Okay?"

Jason frowned, but seemed to understand. He nodded his head in the affirmative before letting go of Clark, releasing his grip from his shoulders as he set him down. Clark spoke up again. "Now why don't you run off and play, Jason, while the grown ups have a little talk. You can play with Shelby."

"Shelby?" he asked mildly curious.

"Yeah, that's the dog's name. Or you can go wake up Jimmy and tell him Clark said to play with you."

"YOU HAVE A DOG?" That was the most exciting thing Jason had learned about Superman yet. Nevermind that the man could fly.

Clark grinned. "Yep. Should be out back somewhere." Suddenly the boy was gone, off to look for the dog. Clark chuckled good-naturedly at his son, feeling good about himself and what just happened between the two of them. Then, much like his son had done earlier, he noticed all of the eyes turned on him, and he blushed, smiling sheepishly at the floor.

"Clark. . ." Perry began with a careful glance towards his nephew. "You're a natural with children."

Clark continued to look down, but his smile had grown. "Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks turning redder by the second. He found his place at the table and sat down, and sighed.

"Look, I know that this must be difficult for all of you to. . . discover all this so quickly. I can't imagine how hard this must be, especially for you Richard. I never meant for any of this to happen this way. This is exactly why I never wanted anyone to find out about who I really was, because I didn't want any villain to have any power over me because they could get me where it hurt the most.

"It's just so frustrating. . . to know that. . . that no matter what I do. . . I'm still screwed. There's nothing I can do to stop anything. . . It's like it doesn't even matter that I'm here to save the world, because nothing ever changes." He groaned and raised a hand to his forehead, his headache returning. No one spoke for a moment, realizing the full import of his words. Richard realized this must have been part of the reason why he'd left before. Superman had quite a few issues.

"Listen. . . Clark, we can discuss all this later, son. Right now, you need to get yourself feeling better. No sense worrying about all this yet."

"Perry, no, you don't understand how badly I've. . . argh. . . screwed things up. . ." Clark gripped his forehead tighter, shutting his eyes in pain. His head felt like it was burning- maybe it was his eyes burning. He didn't know anymore. All he knew was that it hurt like heck.

At that moment Jimmy walked into the room. Having been slightly disoriented for the first five minutes after waking up, and then sleeping in a little bit longer in the comfort of a soft fluffy bed in the warm farmhouse, he only just now decided to come downstairs at the sound of voices. At first he presumed it to just be Clark and Martha Kent- they were up late last night talking, even arguing for a while. They had woken him, and he guiltily had listened in on part of their conversation, the parts he could hear. He still couldn't believe he hadn't told his mom he had fathered a child until last night. But then he heard his editor's infamous voice ring out. Concerned that something else had gone wrong, Jimmy decided to clean up and go downstairs to check out the scene.

Not to mention breakfast smelled pretty good.

He walked into the kitchen silently, everyone seeing yet no one acknowledging him. He realized in a moment that this must be how Clark felt everyday walking into the Daily Planet for work. He just existed, and barely at that. And yet outside those office walls, the man was revered. Unbelievable.

Jimmy listened as Clark went on about how badly he had messed things up as he grabbed himself a plate and began to stack some pancakes on it. Then the man bent over, hands immediately at his head, grunting in pain. Suddenly nervous at seeing his friend in pain again- as it was unnerving to see the man of steel clutching his forehead in agony- he went over to him. "Clark, are you okay buddy?"

Instantly, Martha Kent was on her feet. "Jimmy, I would back away if I were you," she spoke softly, a note of caution in her tone.

"Why?" he asked while complying to her wishes.

"Because I know him better than he even knows himself. And I'm not sure what onslaught of new power could all of the sudden be coming back to him right now."

"QUIET!" he screamed out at everyone and yet no one in particular. The entire table seemed to jump, along with the people in the room, who were surprised at his outburst. Clark swore and clamped his hands over his ears fiercely as they watched him carefully, rocking back and forth in an effort to ease the pain.

Out of nowhere, it seemed, Jason appeared standing in the doorway of the kitchen, where everyone else stood confused. Jason's appearance mimicked much of his father's own, hands over his ears and face pained. "You heard it too?" he whispered almost silently.

Clark somehow managed to hear his son's words and nodded his head in response. Jason ran up to him and jumped into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist. Clark breathed in deeply, relishing the feel of his son's tiny, yet very powerful arms around his own, large, powerless body.

Taking a few more deep breaths, he was able to finally remove his hands from his ears and accept the noise. He shook his head a few times, as though to clear it from the pain, and finally immersed himself in everything he heard with his eyes still shut, singling out individual sounds. He cast his net of hearing out from the area surrounding him to far away. He heard shouts, the sounds of a city, perhaps Metropolis, as people rushed to get to work. Heard the sound of someone digging for change in their purse to pay for the cup of coffee he heard being poured. At the same time he heard cries for help- about muggings, thievery, murder, and worse- cries that he couldn't answer right now. Then he heard one cry above all else.

"Lois," he spoke softly, but the concern in his voice as he tried to focus on what he heard told everyone around him exactly who he had heard. He furrowed his brow in concentration, listening to her. . . crying. Over what? Then there was Lex's cold, steel voice, humorously asking her if it could be true. _If what could be true?_ Luthor answered his question for him, with a smile in his voice. _"Is Superman really dead? Can I really hope for that much?"_

His throat tightened, and suddenly he felt his mind and his hearing rush back to him in a sobering flash. He heard the wind blowing through the grasses outside, the mosquitos buzzing around the pond, and then the distinctive heartbeats of every person standing in the room he was in.

Slowly, he opened his impossibly blue eyes to see everyone he had already heard, his gaze finally settling on the dark brown hair of his son, who remained on his lap, though his grasp had loosened. It was obvious enough that his son had been affected by his hearing of things as well- perhaps the close proximity of him regaining his own powers was impacting when Jason gained his. He didn't know, but he felt the need to comfort the boy anyways. He knew for a fact what it felt like to be first gaining his powers. He was reexperiencing it right now.

Clark wrapped his arms around the boy carefully. "Sh-shh. It's alright. Everything's okay." As a test of sorts, Clark listened intently to see if he could hear the boy's heartbeat, which to his delight he found that he could, and that of everyone in the room. Once again he expanded his hearing just to see if it would still work. As he heard all of the voices and sounds and cries and laughter, he knew it did.

A slight smile crossed his face. Finally Martha felt she could ask. "Clark, honey? What was it? Is everything alright?"

He released the boy, who immediately went back outside to go play. "Yeah. Everything's fine now. Or at least, one thing is." He grinned at their confusion. "I can hear again."

"You said Lois's name," Richard spoke tersely, not straying from the topic. He couldn't help addressing the matter. He needed to know she was alright.

There was a pause before he answered. "She was crying. Not in pain, or torture, but just upset. Luthor told her that I'm dead. Asked if he could really hope to believe in it." He paused again. "She's alright, though. For now." He added those last words, then instantly regretted it. He stood up and could have kicked himself. Running a hand through his hair, he walked over towards the window above the kitchen sink and gazed outside, wishing he could see again, so that he might spot her even from this distance. That wasn't too much to ask, right? He sighed, knowing even with x-ray and telescopic vision he wouldn't be able to see that far.

"Clark, honey," his mother broke in, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You need your rest. It's great that you're recovering, and I'm glad you have your hearing back so you can hear Lois is safe-"

"There were so many people, Ma," he whispered. "So many cries for help, help they can only get from me. And I can't do anything about it."

"Clark," she chided, "They won't get any help from you until you're fully recovered. Lois needs you, the world needs you- so you listen to your mother this instant and get your rear back into bed."

"_Mom,_" he groaned. "I need sunlight, though."

"Then sleep outside. See if I care. Just go get some rest. If you're up and doing things, you might not recover fast enough. Even if you do get your powers back, it's safest if that happens in your sleep. Remember when you first got your speed?"

Clark's eyes widened as he blushed immensly at that comment, and excused himself while he went and got a pillow. No further words were exchanged as he walked through the house, gathering his things- a tee shirt, blanket, et cetera- before walking out the back kitchen door and settling himself in the sunniest spot in the field, not far out of view from the window.

"I'll wake you up before suppertime," she shouted out the window. He waved off her comment to acknowledge he had heard and to leave him be.

Once he was outside, Martha smiled proudly at getting her son to blush like that, and turned back to her guests. The three men stared at her with confusion, the question on the edge of all their tongues. "What-?" Richard began, but Martha cut him off with a short laugh.

"Oh, you see, it was really funny actually. Here it was, a Sunday afternoon, and Clark was about twelve years old, and about as antsy as any twelve year old should be. Anyway, we were having a picnic after church, and we hadn't made it past the church's front steps before he was chasing around little miss Lana Lang, aching to pull her pigtails. You see, he, Lex, Lana and Chloe were pretty close back then, always playing after church. And so Chloe and. . . um, well, you know. . . Lex. . . just watched, laughing at the pair. Lana tripped him and they all laughed, except for Clark, who complained and went to go brush off, knowing we'd have a fit if we knew he'd gotten his Sunday bests soiled. So he ran around the back side of the church and found he couldn't stop. He was going too fast, and he couldn't control it. Poor boy. Unfortunately, he didn't stop until he ran straight into the preacher and his wife, making out in the wheatfield behind the prayer house."

The expression on each of their faces was one of both shock and amusement. Perry burst out laughing, and was soon joined by Richard and Jimmy. Even Martha laughed.

"_MOM!"_ Clark's voice rang out as he came stomping back to kitchen in a huff. "You _promised_ you would never tell anyone that story!"

"Oh, honey, I broke that promise ages ago."

His eyes went wide with the horror of it. "B-b-but. . . my powers-"

"I'm not that stupid. I never spilled about that. I just told people about you walking in on our preacher making love to his wife."

This got another peal of laughter from the men in the room. Clark shot his mother an irritated glance.

"Wait," Richard asked as they slowly recovered from their laughing fit. "Wait- they weren't just kissing, Clark? They were-" At the redness that rushed back into the superhero's features they broke out into laughter again, knowing the truth.

"Oh, that is too good," Jimmy muttered as he brushed a tear from the corner of his eye.

"And people wonder why he didn't go to church much after that," Martha added, warranting another rift of laughter from her guests.

Clark scowled bitterly and shook his head at his mother. "I'm glad to know that while I'm trying to recover from perhaps one of the worst things that's ever happened to me in my entire life, you guys are finding my childhood horrors to be such an enjoyment. That's just swell. Laugh it up."

Martha rolled her eyes at her son. "Oh, Clark don't be such a drama queen."

"Just no embarrassing kid photos, alright?" he threw out there before slamming the screen door shut and going back to his spot.

Perry chuckled. "I never expected for Superman's childhood to be so hilarious."

"Or his mother, for that matter," Richard added.

Martha smiled. "Oh, there's plenty more to tell."

"You're not worried he'll come back in here and be mad at you? Or overhear?" Jimmy asked concernedly.

"Oh, Clark knows what's good for him. He stopped eavesdropping on my conversations when I decided to tell him I wasn't going to buy him anymore presents because he always heard or saw what they were going to be before I could give it to him. Besides," she added, watching him through the window, "if he is listening, he can take this as a warning that I would be very upset with him to know that he was spying on his own mother's conversations," she said very pointedly. Through the window she could see him flop positions onto his other side, shooting her a scowl before closing his eyes in acknowledgement to her ultimatum.

"That's more like it. Now get some sleep," she added, loud enough so everyone could hear, not just her son from outside.

Then she turned back. "Well then, would you guys like to talk about anything else? Or would you like to see some more pictures of Clark as a child?" She grinned wickedly. "For some reason, I'm in the mood to torture him."

*****Act Drop*****

**To Be Continued. . . **

**A/N:** See? Happy note. :) I kept my word, even though it's _extremely long_!

PLEASE REVIEW! If you do, I will reward you with more! By the way, I'm getting close to caught up to what I have already written, and in order to keep up this pace, I'm gonna need some ideas to get writing again. If anyone has any ideas about what should happen _after_ this whole period of time where Clark is powerless, or rather, rediscovering his powers, let me know! Is it too angsty? Happy? Should I add more father/son fluff (not gonna lie, more's coming anyways)? I need ideas. What direction do you want to see this taken in?

If you review, I love you forever!


	8. Chapter 8: Clark's Son

**A/N:** Hello my lovlies! I hope you all enjoyed your weekend! I just want to say that I'm pleased with the amount of hits this story has been getting! Please, though if you can, review! Tell me what you like/hate/love about my story. Your opinion will be valued. Here's chapter eight, as a reward for so many people out there that cared enough to read this far! =D Also, check out my profile- i have a couple of polls posted for various different trains of thought with regards to this and other stories.

**Disclaimer:** Nope. Nothing new here. _WWHHHHYYYYYYYYY?_

*****Chapter Eight: Clark's Son*****

Clark slept soundly for about four and a half hours, in straight sunlight. He had quit listening to his mother, deciding she was going to tell embarrassing stories of him whether he liked it or not, and he'd rather not hear it.

What woke him up four hours later was his son.

"Superman," he had begun whispering. "Mister Clark, wake up. Please wake up. I don't know what to do," he whimpered. It had taken him about ten minutes, but Clark had managed to rouse from the depths of his sleep.

"Jason, what's wrong? What's going on?"

"I'm still hearing things," he spoke mournfully.

Clark sat up and placed both of his hands his son's shoulders. "What did you hear?" he asked solemnly.

"A lot of things. At first it was just Shelby barking, because I threw the ball too far-" Clark allowed himself to smile at this- "and then I started hearing laughter, and people talking, and then cars and bells and then it just was everywhere all at once and it hurts when it does that- ow! Superman make it stop! It's doing it again!"

Clark looked at him with concern. "Listen to me, Jason. Can you hear my voice?" The boy nodded through closed eyes and covered ears. "How does it sound- closer than the other noises, right?" Again he nodded. "Good. Now, I want you to breathe deeply. In and out. Slower. There you go. Now, focus on something other than my voice. Can you hear Shelby barking?" He frowned for a moment in concentration, then nodded slowly. "Good. Now, what can you hear around Shelby? Pick out some noises. Is there wind? People?"

Jason focused, his features intent on figuring this out, brow furrowed in concern. "Yes, there's wind in the fields, wooshing everywhere. But no people. They're much farther away. There's bugs though. Buzzing. And now Shelby's not barking anymore- he's sniffing and walking somewhere." A lump entered into Clark's throat as he watched his son's face, recognizing both the relief and the wonder that now occupied it. He was figuring it out, and everything he was mentioning to Clark had been correct so far. The pain was obviously subsiding, as could be seen in his expression.

"Now, every time that you start to feel like you're hearing something far away, you can just try to focus on it and the things surrounding it. You'll get better at it as you get older, and soon you'll be able to hear whatever you want. A word of advise, though, don't listen in on your mother- she would get upset with you eavesdropping on her, and you might spoil any surprises she might be wanting to give you." Clark grinned, thinking back to his own childhood and how Lois would react to something like that.

Jason gave him a smile, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, turning instead into tears. Confused at first, Clark embraced him, but then hugged him tighter as he realized it was the mention of his mother that had driven him to tears. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jason. I know. . . it's hard on all of us."

"C-can't y-you s-s-s-save her?" he spluttered into his shoulder.

Clark's heart dropped. _And it had been such a good moment, too._ "I'm going to save her. I just need to get better first. Superman can't burst in and save her if he has no powers to save her with. But I will try and save her. I always get Lex." But his heart was not in on that last statement.

"Y-y-you promise?" he asked, full of hope and despair all at once.

Clark bit back his tears and rage. "I promise." Whether or not he could keep that promise, he did not know. All he knew that he would either save Lois or die trying. And death was not an option here. Not anymore.

After all, he had made a promise to his son.

"C-can I stay here with you for a minute? Just until you go back to sleep? I didn't mean to wake you."

Clark smiled at his son's concern. "Of course."

With that Jason cuddled next to him as he laid back down. But Jason fell asleep long before his father did. He couldn't; not with his son curled up to him like that anyways. Clark lay there watching Jason sleep for about an hour, before finally dozing off himself.

Martha came out to announce supper was ready several hours later, realizing her son had slept through lunch. When she saw the two of them together, her heart melted. It was the perfect picture of father and son. They looked the same in that instant, like one of those time lapse images one saw on the computer. She remembered in that moment something her son had once told her, or rather, asked her about. "The son becomes the father," she whispered, "and the father becomes the son." He had not known what that meant at the time when he had asked her, and even she had been a little shaky on the metaphor. But now she saw it's full meaning as clearly as the dawn itself.

She knew, regrettably, that she had to wake them from their slumber for dinner. Sighing, she went over there, and slightly shook Clark on the shoulder- the good one, she hoped. "Clark? Clark, dear, come on, wake up. You guys need to eat."

Rather much to her surprise, Jason woke first and aided her in waking him up. "Mister Clark, Superman, get up. Mrs. Kent's- your mom's made dinner for us! Get up."

It seemed to be his touch that woke Clark from his slumber, as he stirred at the first sound of his son's voice. Perhaps that had done it before, too, when they had seen him in the hospital. There was just something about the sound of his son's voice that could just about do anything for Clark, even waking him from his coma on numerous occassion. His emotions and feelings for the little boy would lift his spirits just enough to rouse him, perk him up. And perhaps return his powers? Martha could only hope. Clark groaned and rolled over onto his other side, but at feeling the sharp pain in his shoulder when he did that, he immediately sat up, shocked back into reality. He smiled up at them, and complied with his son's urgent request to come with them, which Martha laughed at.

They all sat around the dinner table in silence. The food was excellent, and talk would have by no means cheapened it, but there seemed to be very little left to talk about, besides the serious stuff. Mrs. Kent had already disclosed the majority of her stories about Clark's childhood to the men, and Jason was just happy to be able to eat what he wanted- Martha had for one been prepared for his allergic needs, seeing as though Clark had similar ones when he was younger, with his body fluctuating between having an immense amount of powers and being incredibly weak. The other reason being that ever since his first outward display of powers, Jason had been getting less and less sickly. Martha nodded, acknowledging that was reasonable. Clark dropped all need for any medications for allergies or otherwise by the time he was seven years old.

But for now, the room remained encapsulated in silence, only the clinking of forks and knifes against plates being heard- by those whose hearing was not superpowered.

"This is delicious, Martha," Perry White broke the silence.

"Thank you. I know I had a lot of food here already, but I figured with company I'd make something. Besides, I cook when I'm stressed."

"Well, I know I definitely appreciate it- this is the best home-cooked meal I've had in. . . well, just about forever!" Richard exclaimed next. "You're possibly the best cook I've ever met."

"Oh, no. I'm sure Miss Lane could hold her own on the kitchen."

This warranted a burst of laughter from everyone at the table. "Lois?" Richard asked dubiously. "Lois Lane?"

"Yeah. Lois could burn water, Ma," Clark chuckled good-humoredly.

"And has," Jimmy threw out, adding to the general enjoyment of the group.

They continued to laugh, but Clark's laughter had died down. He brought his hand up to his face for the millionth time that day, the headache once again mysteriously returning. It wasn't from noise anymore, though, but rather, from his eyes. He couldn't tell where it had started, or when, since the pain had seemed to go on with no end for most of the day- but this onslaught of new pain was fresh, and it burned at his head, right above his eyes and at the sides of his face. Different from the kryptonite, but painful nonetheless.

No one else seemed to notice the shift in him since they had begun to talk once again, since Perry had broken the ice. But all of the sudden, his mother asked if he was okay and all eyes turned to him, and silence once again ensued.

He stretched his jaw and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the feeling. "I-I'm fine," he finally stated, though his mother didn't seem to believe him. Then the pain stabbed, stinging at his eyes, burning them. He shut them as fiercely as he could, but the pain was getting to be too much to handle. He removed his glasses and placed his hands over his eyes, trying to get it darker, but the light wouldn't go away. It was burning him.

"Oh, crap," he muttered, loud enough for all to hear.

"Clark Joseph Kent, don't you dare. . ." his mother warned. Then she looked at her confused guests across the table. "You all might wanna duck."

Their confusion turned to understanding as Clark suddenly removed his hands from his eyes and a red beam shot out from behind them. They managed to duck just in time as it swept over where their heads should have been, eating a hole in the wall across the way.

Everyone ran. The walls began to catch fire, and Clark couldn't see. He found himself firmly rooted to the spot, terrified, not knowing what to do. There were shouts all around him. Clark finally managed to get ahold of himself and stopped, staring in horror at what he had done, when all of the sudden, a strong gust of icy cold air burst forth and put out all of the flames.

For a while, nobody moved. They all just stared at each other, at a loss to speak about what had just happened. Jimmy broke the silence. "Well, it was lucky you're laser vision came back with your superbreath. Otherwise we'd have been in a pickle." He laughed nervously. Perry and Richard did too, in an effort to ease the tension rather than the fact that Jimmy was actually funny. Martha Kent just glared at her son firmly.

Clark however, didn't seem to respond. He kept his eyes shut, as a safety, just in case it happened again. He didn't laugh, he didn't respond to the glares, he didn't make a movement. "It wasn't me, Jimmy," he responded quietly, a certain tightness in his tone.

Suddenly the laughter stopped, and all eyes turned towards the previously unnoticed Jason. He squirmed under the scrutiny, scuffing his tennis shoe against the wood floor absent-mindedly. "I'm sorry. I started panicking and I didn't know what to do, and my asthma was acting up, and so I remembered you saying to breathe deeply and then I just sort of. . . blew out all the fire."

"No, Jason. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. That was very good of you, and I'm proud of you for it. I told you, my powers aren't exactly back to normal yet, so when they do bad things like that, feel free to stop me. Thank you. You saved Mrs. Kent's house, and she would have killed me for burning it down if you hadn't." Clark pulled his son into a tight embrace, closing his eyes once again, now afraid that he could spontaneously combust items at random with his vision. Pulling away, he reached out for his glasses on the table and felt around for them. Upon feeling them, he immediately snatched them up and put them back on his face. Sighing, he turned, grabbing his glass of water and began walking away. "I'll fix up the house when I get my speed back, Ma. I'm going to bed."

"Where?" Jimmy asked, suddenly concerned that he might destroy the house in his sleep.

"Oh, don't worry Jimmy. We Clark-proofed his room a long time ago. That's why he sleeps in there. That, and personal attachment."

"Clark-proofed?" Richard asked, picking up his son into his arms.

Martha nodded. "Yes. No breakables, no valuable family heirlooms, fireproof walls sheeted with lead and covered by lead-based paint. I think we have our bases covered. Unless he takes to punching things in his sleep, we should be alright. And he really doesn't do much in his sleep except snore."

Jason thought that was funny; Superman snoring. He laughed, easing the tension among everyone there, who began chuckling as well.

"Well," Perry eventually spoke, "I guess we'd better go find a hotel. I don't want to put you out."

"Nonsense, there's still another two guestrooms. I may not have had any other kids of my own, but Johnathan and I both had big families that would come and visit. This house can hold plenty, even if it looks small. Heck, there's even a spaceship in the cellar under the barn."

"REALLY? Awesome!" Jason commented. Richard ruffled his hair with a smile.

"Anyways, there's one spare room set up in the basement and the other's right across from Jimmy's room."

"I'll take the basement," Perry spoke up. "You and Jason can take the bedroom. I'll be fine," he added as his nephew was about to speak up in protest. Then he turned to Martha. "Are you sure this won't be a trouble? Because if it is, we can always just go into town and-"

"Nonsense. I'll have none of that from any of you. You guys are like family now," she spoke, eyeing Jason significantly. "Besides, I think it's safest for you to be here anyways. Remember how I told you Lex grew up with Clark? You know how they're rich? They own a lot of places in town, hotel included."

Richard paled, knowing how it would look if all of the sudden half of the Daily Planet staff showed up at a hotel in Smallville, how that would make things seem to Luthor. It made sense to have Jimmy flying out to Smallville, to offer his condolences, and perhaps stay a couple of nights with the grieving mother. But if Richard and Perry White- along with the man of steel's son- showed up at his mother's house. . . all in all, it would look bad. Not to mention, very concentrated. Regardless of whether or not Luthor believed Clark was dead or not, having everyone that Superman cared about in the slightest gathered in one place might be all too tempting for the villain. He sighed. Why did things always have to be so complicated? "Alright then, I suppose that's persuasive enough. Thank you." He smiled, even though he didn't care to stay in the same house as Superman, something most people would concern to be an honor.

He just couldn't stand the fact that the man was getting along so well with his son.

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N:** Yay! This one was short, I know, and touched on a little bit of angst, but it's leading somewhere. . . hopefully. Eventually. We'll see. As always, read and review- I don't block anonymous reviews! That means if you don't even have a account, you can still press that button at the bottom and leave me a message telling me what you thought of it (feel free to criticize; I'm so stuck right now, that I'll take anything). :)

**PS:** Yay for the Oscars! I loved the red carpet events more than the show itself, and I was a little bit disappointed in the presentations. . . but James Franco dressed in drag was pretty hilarious. Also, yay for Inception for winning four awards, and to Natalie Portman for her performance in Black Swan! Well deserved awards right there. And of course, when it come to Toy Story Three, there was just no competition. . . . XD

Loves to you all!


	9. Chapter 9: Strikingly Similar

**A/N:** Hi there! Chapter nine is now up, and I am *officially* caught up to where I am physically with this story. Not sure what will happen next; I will have to have a conversation with Clark about what he wants to do next, something along the lines of, "So, what powers do you want to get back next?" and "Hypothetically speaking, which of your friends would you be quickest to sacrifice?" and so on and so forth. =D Not that I actually think I would do that (as in, killing people off) to any of my characters (even though they're not mine), but it's a definite possibility. Of course, now that I've written this all down up here, you will be expecting doom and gloom to come- when really this could be a bluff and I'm really going to make everything wind up perfectly alright in the end and I'm just trying to trick you all! On the other hand, telling you that I'm bluffing could really be a bluff in itself, making this a double bluff, and I really _will_ wreak havoc upon the Superman/DC Universe and destroy everything you know and love about the man of steel! But then again, I could be lying about that and-

-_M A L F U N C T I O N . C O M P U T E R _ C A N T _ K E E P _ U P . -_ *teehee* XD

**Disclaimer:** I will let you know if anything changes in this department. Warner Brothers and DC are pretty busy right now trying to actually complete the new Superman movie- or better yet, _cast_ it- and are slow going about it. So far, they haven't responded to any of my letters, emails, or tweets filled with cyber tears. So for now, none of this is mine.

*****Chapter Nine: Strikingly Similar*****

As they were each getting settled into their prospective rooms, there was a knock at the door. It was past midnight- Martha couldn't imagine another person coming by that knew about Clark. Her stomach tightened up in a knot. She didn't want anybody else stopping by, not yet, not with everybody there, even if they were all asleep. It would ruin things so easily. Clark wouldn't wake up soon at least- she had gone up to his room to check on him, and found the door locked with him not making a sound behind it.

Then, she thought, what if it was Lex? Or one of his goons? Her gut churned as she patted down her hair and pinched her nose in the mirror, trying to make it look like she had been crying or upset. _Here goes nothing,_ she thought as she opened the door, plastering a fake, pained smile on her features.

"Yes?" she asked before practically getting tackled by the man before her. His large arms wrapped around her in a tight, warm embrace, and she fell easily into it. "Oh, Ben," she spoke, forcing her voice to sound shaky. Surprisingly, she found she didn't have to force much. Turns out the events of the last few days were enough to get her to cry at the drop of a hat.

"Sh-shh. I'm so sorry, Martha. I just got back into town and as soon as I heard. . ." he was at a loss for words.

She simply nodded her head against his chest. Finally, she brushed away her tears and found her voice. "I'm sorry, would you like to come inside?"

He nodded and let her guide him in to sit on the sofa. They sat in silence for a while, Ben allowing Martha to brood for a little bit, when in reality, she was trying to come up with something, anything, to get him out of there before he found out the truth. Ben Hubbard had asked her to marry him, and she'd finally accepted about a week ago. Clark was alright with it, and said that since the man was about to become family, he would be alright with him knowing his secret. But Ben had left town to go visit his daughter in Missouri- she had just had her baby, and Martha wasn't sure that she should go to such an intimate occasion with him, be introduced to the rest of his family in such a setting. So she'd stayed home, waiting until he got back in two weeks.

He'd cut his trip down, leaving early when he heard about her son.

Martha's tears rolled down her cheeks silently. So much had happened since he left- things he didn't know about, that part of her wasn't sure he should know about. There was no way to just explain half of it. If he found out he was still alive- which, inevitably, he would, considering they would still be getting married- then he would have to find out that he was Superman. And that he had a son. And that he was staying in her house with a bunch of his coworkers-slash-family members until he got his powers back so he could go on a suicide mission to go save the love of his life, which he might not survive anyways.

How do you drop that bomb on your fiancee?

"I-" his voice broke off. "I'd really hoped he'd be at our wedding."

She bit her lip, and was about to speak up and say something when Jason walked in the room. "Mrs. Kent? I was wondering if you could get me some water- oh. S-sorry. I didn't know anyone else was here." He blushed as he looked up at the two of them, embracing on the sofa. He felt incredibly stupid standing there in his Superman footed pajamas, her son's iconic symbol plastered everywhere on him repeatedly. And that stranger was staring at him funny, like he had grown a second head or something. He giggled at that mental image, then sobered again as he noticed the man hadn't looked away. He shifted on his feet.

"Um, Martha? Who is that?" he whispered, but Jason listened anyways, with a slight smile on his face. He was getting better at hearing things. He could choose what to listen to.

"Uh, Ben, this is Jason Lane. Jason, this is Ben Hubbard, my fiancee." There was obvious discomfort on her face as Ben turned his gaze between her and the little boy.

"Pleased to meet you," the boy said, walking towards him and extending his hand out for a proper handshake.

Ben took it, awestruck, and shook it loosely. "Firm handshake you got there," he managed, that being the only thing he could think to say.

Suddenly Jason's eyes widened, and he let go of the older man's hand in a snap and drew it in to himself. Ben sat confused, his hand still outstretched. Jason peered at it carefully, glancing between his face and his hand. Satisfied that he probably hadn't done too much damage, he looked sheepish once again. Martha came to his rescue.

"Why don't I get you some water in the kitchen- or how about some warm milk? That should help you get some sleep. Come on." She took his hand and they headed off to the kitchen, Ben following as if in a daze.

"Here you go, Jason. Better?" she asked nonchalantly.

He nodded slowly, keeping an eye on the man, who appeared to be watching him with an increased interest. "G'night," Jason muttered as he walked off warily.

Ben couldn't believe his eyes. It couldn't be possible. He would have known- Martha would have told him she had a grandson. That's not something she would've kept secret. Maybe she didn't know- and Clark wasn't married- no. That could not be the son of Clark Kent. No; the fact that he looked so much like Clark was just his brain filling things in, and since Clark just died, someone who even looked remotely like Clark was sure to trigger his memory in a funny way. He wouldn't deny that there were some similarities, but it was just his overactive imagination, hard at work. Right? _But he looks so similar, _he thought, knowing in his gut the truth_._ Strikingly similar, in fact. For a moment, when he had seen Jason, Ben felt as though he were transported back almost thirty years, watching little Clark amble about mischeviously, looking for trouble. Once the boy was out of eyesight, he was about to speak, when Martha covered his mouth. "Oh, and Jason, honey? Go to sleep. You don't need to be so worried about me so as to sneak around, listening or spying on us. I'm fine."

Ben watched as the boy sulked, walking back across their field of view in the doorframe, going up the stairs. "Good night," she added after him. When she heard the door slam, she finally uncovered her fiancee's mouth, hoping he got the hint.

"What was that for?"

"A precaution," she spoke softly, staring into the distance, hoping her grandson wouldn't listen in on their conversation.

Ben Hubbard cupped his hands as he raised them to his face, sighing into them. He shut his eyes, trying to get the image of the little boy out of his head, to no avail. "Tell me that. . . that he's not Clark's son. Please. That would make things so much worse."

Martha opened her mouth to speak, wanting to explain, when other footsteps could be heard making their way down the stairs. She shut her mouth, knowing the risks involved with revealing too much.

Ben, unfortunately, continued. "He looks so much like him. I mean, I remember seeing Clark growing up, and he looked exactly like that. You can't tell me that's not his son. Oh, Martha," his voice was clearly moved, the gravity of it all seeming that much worse.

Martha shut her eyes as he hugged her once again, his embrace feeling so good, and yet, not feeling deserving of his care. "Actually, Ben, there's something I've been meaning to tell you about. . . about Clark. Actually, there's a lot I've been wanting to tell you. After I told him we were getting engaged, he gave his consent, and said that he'd wanted to talk to you about it all, to tell you everything. He never got the chance to before all this happened. I wish he were here now to tell you," she breathed that last part, almost silently.

"Tell me what?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. The tone she was using was not that of a grieving mother, but more of an irritated one. It didn't fit. Something didn't seem right about the whole situation, something was very off, and it was beginning to frighten him. "What do you mean, Martha?"

Suddenly a light flooded the kitchen as a form hunched over into the open fridge, rummaging around. Suddenly he pulled out a jug of milk, and lifted it to his lips in a daze, and took a swig of it. The man was tall, Ben realized as he leaned back, chugging it. As he finished, swirled around the little contents remaining in the milk jug, replaced the cap, and shut the door to the fridge, the man suddenly realized he wasn't alone. And Ben's jaw dropped at the sight of who it was.

Clark's mouth, too, hung open in surprise, but he caught on faster. "I-I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

Ben Hubbard stood in shock. Clark stood to his full height, once again bare chested and in his Batman bottoms, his hair messed up and thick glasses on his face. He had a slight milk moustache and as he smiled, and then looked down, there could be no doubt that this man and the boy that had come before him were father and son. Clark was upset with himself for not noticing the other person in the room, he should have been more aware of his surroundings- but he was tired- and being sleepy, injured, and having random bouts of superpowers was both emotionally and physically draining. That was no excuse, of course, for missing the fact that his future stepfather had come over and was now staring at him like he was some sort of ghost.

Finally, the man croaked, "Clark?"

"I'm sorry, Ben. I shouldn't have made everyone believe- _oof_!" The man pulled him into a tight embrace, which Clark welcomed. For a moment, they just stood there like that, Clark getting to feel more and more awkward.

Eventually, Ben spoke up. "I'm just glad you're alright, son."

Clark's heart rose at the use of the term: son. He hadn't been sure before about Mr. Hubbard's marriage to his mother, but now he was positive that this was the right man for her. "Thanks, Ben," he stated, though the simple words could not do the man justice.

After a while, they ended up drinking tea on the couch, the three of them. Clark decided that it was going to be a lot of explaining and he didn't want to drag Ben through a bunch of lies. Besides, it would take just as much time to come up with the lies as it would to explain the truth, and he would have to tell him eventually, so might as well not waste the time.

"How is this possible? Why would the Daily Planet put it out there that you're dead if it's not true? How are you alive? Did none of it happen? What-"

"Please, Mr. Hubbard, let me explain. And first off let me tell you that your not having any prior knowledge of any of what I'm about to tell you is not a measure of my mother's trust or regard for you. I asked her to keep all of my secrets safe, to not tell anyone, even you. So don't feel bad that you weren't in the know on this, okay? For the record, as soon as I found out you two were planning on getting married, I knew you'd have to know the truth."

"You're not making any sense, Clark. What secrets? That you're not dead? It's not exactly a shocker anymore, Clark."

He stood up and ran a hand through his hair. "How do I put this. . . normally, I'd just change into my suit and show you, but that's all torn and bloody still, so that's kind of out for now. . . I could ask you to shoot me and see what happens, but frankly, I'm not sure what will happen yet, so that seems like a poor idea. . . so I guess you're just going to have to take my word on the matter."

Ben Hubbard was staring at his future stepson with a look of absolute confusion. None of his ramblings were making any sense. "Shoot you? Again? What are you talking about- Martha, are you sure he's alright?"

"It's okay, he just needs to get it out of his system. Besides, it's good for him."

Ben eyed Clark warily, the boy he and Martha had just been weeping over a mere fifteen minutes ago. He was torn up- physically and emotionally. Ben spotted easily the bullet wound on his shoulder, noting also how well-built he was- surprising for his nerdy attitude and country-bum look. But he had also noticed the slash in his side, from the looks of it, made from a pretty nasty knife. He had no idea where Clark had disappeared to for five years, but he wouldn't have been surprised if he'd told him he was in prison.

What he actually said did manage to surprise him.

"Mr. Hubbard- Ben," he began, "You know how I sort of. . . disappeared for about five years? Traveling the world and whatnot, right? Well, you see, that didn't actually happen."

_Uh-oh. Here comes the prison thing._ Ben sighed, thinking he had been such a good kid years back. Perhaps something had changed when he moved to Metropolis.

"It didn't happen exactly how I told it. I was gone. Traveling. But I wasn't traveling the world." Suddenly, he took off his glasses, stood taller, and looked firmly at his soon to be stepfather. He parted his hair differently, allowing his one errant curl to rest gently on his forehead. He had the satisfaction of seeing- vaguely, without his glasses- Ben's jaw drop at the sight of him, and the quick change of his appearance. "You see, Ben, I was traveling through outer space, searching for Krypton. It was possibly one of the biggest mistakes of my life- and I've made a lot of mistakes, believe me- but leaving Earth was one of the worst. I left my family behind- I left the world behind, to fend for itself, when they needed a savior the most.

"Because, you see Ben, I'm Superman."

Ben didn't move. His jaw remained fixed in position- that position being practically on the floor. "Holy crap," was all he could manage. Clark smiled. But of all the things that Ben Hubbard could have asked, could have been thinking of, only one thing ran through his mind:

He was going to marry Superman's mother.

"Holy crap," he reiterated. Clark put his glasses back on, breathing a silent sigh of relief at being able to see again. He hated being blind- it made him feel helpless. Clark took his seat in the chair across from the sofa, waiting for more. "All these years," Ben finally mustered, "All this time, and Superman was playing checkers, right here among us. In my own home, for pete's sake! I knew Superman before he was Superman! How did I miss this?"

"Because you only ever saw Clark. Which is kind of the opposite view the rest of the world has. No one sees Clark, everyone sees Superman. Weird, really."

Martha put a hand on her fiancee's. "Ben, I know this must be a lot to process, and it's probably difficult for you-"

"Are you kidding me? My future son is Superman? It's freakin' awesome! Talk about pressure- but it's great!"

Clark seemed surprised. "Wow. You've taken this the best out of everyone, Jason excepted."

Suddenly Ben's head snapped up. "Jason. I met him, briefly. Is he yours?" Clark smiled widely, and Ben knew without a doubt that he was. "Congratulations," he added. "He's a beautiful child."

"Thank you," he replied softly. Suddenly his expression sobered and darkened. "Listen, Ben, I know you might think this is a lot of secrecy, but I would appreciate it if you didn't bring up the fact that he's my son- not in front of him."

Ben's expression was one of puzzlement. "You mean. . . he doesn't know?"

"Not exactly. Not yet, anyways. It's really kind of complicated. I know you're probably pretty curious about everything, but you're just going to have to trust me on this one. Lois knows, Richard knows- even Perry and Jimmy know, but it's not something we've discussed with Jason himself yet."

"I understand. I'll do my best to keep all your secrets. But you really should tell the kid. I mean, you're Superman, right? What's he gonna say when he starts to, you know, throw footballs into outer space or fly and go catch it?"

Clark winced. "He kind of already has. He's started to develop his powers. Right now it's been a lot having to do with his hearing, but he's had irregular bouts of strength and one case of superbreath."

"Ah. That would explain the handshake, then."

"Why? Did he hurt you? If he did, I can assure you, it was an accident-" Clark reached across the table and grabbed his soon-to-be new father's hand gently and examined it, sans-x-ray vision. He turned it over in his hands, searching for any signs of swelling or breakage. It seemed alright to him, but who knows what could have happened.

"No, no. He didn't hurt me at all, Clark. I just said he had a nice, firm handshake, and he pulled away like he'd just crushed a puppy. Now I realize, he probably thought he did crush me."

Clark looked down, releasing the man's hand as he did so. He knew they had to tell Jason at some point. He probably should have already told him that he was his father. But he had wanted to wait for Lois to become comfortable with the idea, first. It wasn't fair for him to step back into her life and determine the path their life would take- just waltz in and tell Jason, "hey, I'm Clark Kent, and I'm Superman, and by the way I'm your real daddy, too". Not that there was any fair way to do it. He knew that sooner or later, probably sooner, Jason would be having questions, especially now with his new powers, and why he was getting them- but he didn't want to have to tell him without Lois.

Clark realized bitterly that he might have to. He didn't know how much longer he could wait to tell the boy.

Ben cleared his throat, bringing Clark's thoughts back to reality and out of his inner war. "Sorry," he spoke, "I've just been a little out of it recently. What with everything going on."

Ben nodded. "I can't even pretend to understand what it is you're going through, in any aspect of it, but I can only imagine what it must be like for you."

They sat in silence, but it was a comfortable one. The air was clear. Finally Clark, realizing that the two of them wanted to be alone again, spoke up and metioned that he was going to get some rest- for real this time.

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N: **Ta-da! You are now all caught up with me! I must say, I find it rather intriguing, don't you? Now everyone knows all of Clark's dirty little secrets, what happens next? More powers? When? How? When arre we ever going to get back to Lois? I'm not sure- but we'll find out! Stay tuned!

Love you all! Keep reading, and review! ;P


	10. Chapter 10: Superman Returns

**A/N:** Sorry it's been so long- almost a week, I think! Which for me, is long, I suppose. . . . =D This is short, but I had to put something else up. For those of you desiring Superman's powers to return. . . wait no more! I'll have more up and coming soon, hopefully.

Oh, and by the way, all mistakes are my own. No beta, but I'm usually okay without. Let me know of any glaring mistakes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or fictitious settings in this story- the majority of which belong to DC, Warner Bros., or originally I suppose Siegel and Schuster, the brilliant creators of a man who inspires so many. . . and of whom I am both forever thankful and envious. The only thing I can lay claim to in here is the basic plotline that I hope is varied enough from any other previous ideas. . . . so yeah. Read! Review! Enjoy!

*****Chapter Ten: Superman Returns*****

Upon walking into his soon-to-be son's room, Ben was greeted at first by terror. Clark was gone. Oh no. What would he tell Martha? She had asked him to check on him, to make sure he was alright and still sleeping- and hadn't accidentally destroyed anything.

Frantically, his eyes scanned the room, only to find the corner of a blanket hanging down in his peripheral vision. Surprised by the strange sight, Ben followed the trail upwards with his eyes to be greeted by the still more shocking sight of Clark Kent floating on the ceiling, grasping the corners of the blanket as if it were his only security. Once the initial shock wore off, Ben chuckled. That boy was definitely exceptional- and kind of weird. But that came with the territory.

He had carefully closed the door, shaking his head to himself before heading downstairs to tell his fiancee that her son would most likely sleep through the entire day, then relating how he had spotted him asleep on the ceiling.

Martha just laughed. "Yes, it made waking him up for school in the mornings rather difficult when he found he could do that. Not to say Clark wasn't a morning person- he's up with the sun everyday. But in winter time, or when he got bored with school. . . let's just say he's stubborn and leave it at that. Clark sleeps upside down more often than not now."

It was a strange conversation to be having, if one listened to it out of context. But Ben grinned as he realized they would probably be having a lot more conversations like this in the future. And he didn't mind that.

***** S *****

Clark awoke not knowing where he was. It was an odd feeling. Having never been drunk (enough) or this disoriented before, he found himself confused. Then he looked around. And he practically jumped out of his skin.

He was in the air.

Not just floating or hovering over his bed, like usual, but in the air, outside of the farm house. Make that way outside. And above. For a moment, he was scared enough to allow a small scream to surface, moving his arms around in a circle as though he were trying to swim through the air. But despite his intial fright, nothing seemed to happen. No falling millions of miles- okay, so it was only about five miles, but still. No bumpy air turbulence that the rather rudementary airplane had provided. Experimentally, he tried controlling his power of flight, finding himself bobbing up and down in midair. Unexpectedly, Clark's features broke out in a large grin. He started laughing, then shot off into the air.

The wind felt _so_ good rushing past him. He couldn't help himself, he just couldn't stop laughing. He throttled through the air, picked up a boulder out of the middle of a field, and tossed it in the air, juggling it as though it was nothing. Finally he set it back down and rocketed up, as high as he could go, enjoying the moment of peace he had. He thought it was funny; he rarely ever flew as Clark Kent, and never in Batman pajamas. It was invigorating. He went to the upper levels of the atmosphere and then stopped, allowing gravity to pull him back down. He sobered for a moment as he remembered his fall from a little bit higher up a little more than three weeks ago- the day he had almost died. This was entirely different.

The air rushed past him in a flurry, and Clark allowed a contented smile to remain spread across his face as he fell from the heights to which he had flown. Everyone always wanted to fly like Superman, but all Clark ever wanted to do was just fall- to completely give in and release his body from any sense of control. Just let go. He had done it before- and his most recent attempt that he tried, it was not of his own conscious doing. But being able to fall, after three days without his powers, was completely refreshing.

Superman was back.

Suddenly he burst through the kitchen door with incredible speed and stood before the rest of the household guests proudly, noting the shock on their faces. Jimmy allowed a spoonful of his oatmeal to fall on his pants, Perry had his mouth hanging open, and Richard looked scared out of his wits as he dropped the glass he had been holding. Clark quickly swooped down and caught it a millisecond before it would have shattered on the ground, and replaced the tumbler on the table. There was no mistaking the wide grin spread across his features.

As suddenly as he had appeared, Clark disappeared again, and then reappeared before them dressed in his regular Clark clothes- not the dorky suit he wore to the office, but a tee-shirt and jeans. He couldn't seem to remove the silly grin from his face- Clark was giddy with delight.

Martha recovered the quickest, used to her son's random appearances and disappearances from her kitchen- often to scavenger for some food and chat for a little bit before taking off again. "So, I take it you slept well?"

Clark nodded vigorously, his smile widening. Then he noticed the glasses on his face. His heart skipping a beat, Clark gently closed his eyes and removed them.

He opened his eyes.

And everything was clear.

He breathed a sigh of relief. He hated being blind, with a passion. His mother feared his grin would split his face in two. "Yeah," he continued. "Yeah, I slept great. It was just what Superman needed." After a second's thought, he asked, "Hey, Ma, did you fix up the suit yet?"

She gave him a scathing look. "No. I'm afraid this one's beyond repair- much like the last one. You're going to have to run home and grab another one- but not just yet, alright Clark? You just got your powers back, plan a little bit. Let Lex think you're really dead."

At this Clark scowled and promptly took his seat at the breakfast table. Everyone else was conveniently feigning distraction, while eagerly listening in on the conversation. "I know, Ma, but it's so hard to just. . . let it go. I can hear now. All of it. Don't you know how much that tortures me? And Lois-"

"Will be fine for the time being."

"How can you be so sure?" he whispered, the grin that previously occupied his features now gone without a trace.

"I just know, Clark. Call it a mother's intuition, if you will."

He cast a glance at the floor. "I hope you're right."

Jimmy suddenly tripped over the leg of his chair and sent everything on his plate flying through the air. Luckily, Clark was now there to save the day. For good. He collected both JImmy and the food in one swift swoop, then, realizing he had some housework to do, grinned at his mother. "Hey, I'm gonna go fix up that wall. Be back in a jiff. And then maybe after breakfast I can take Jason up flying, like he wanted."

Jason's grin rivaled Clark's own. "YEAH!"

He ruffled the boy's hair, and walked off confidently once again.

"Make sure you clean up after yourself- and don't you dare break anything else!" his mother shouted after him.

He shot her a lopsided grin. "I always do, don't I?" With that, he was off to work.

It felt good to be back.

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N:** short, sweet. . . hope this is sort of what you guys were looking for with this. I didn't want to detail his powers-recovery any more since i had already put so much into the last few chapters about that. . . and let's face it, there's only so many ways to describe a headache. =P Anyways, hopefully i'll be back soon with more- and i swear! I'm about done with the angsty, introspectives that I've been going through these last. . . um, six chapters? I'm finally ready to write some action into here! get this story rolling... for those of you that like that, however, don't worry. more emotional stuff is always on the way. just need a break from it for a while... XD

Show Clark you love him and **Review this please**!


	11. Chapter 11: A Far Cry From Perfect

**A/N:** WOO-HOO! Finally! I got the ball rolling! Sorry it took me so long to get back to this one, but I had writer's block and got distracted with another story for a while. . . and unluckily for me, writer's block is my own special form of kryptonite. . . Luckily, though, I called up Clark and he swooped down and obliterated that brick wall that stood in my way in one fell swoop and allowed me to get back to what was really important here: pleasing the fans! So here you go, the next installment of "Clark vs. Lex"! I swear, the next sections shouldn't take so long! (but honestly guys, it's only been like a couple of weeks XD ).

**Disclaimer:** The following passage contains information that neither I nor any large coorporations consider to be my own. For starters, I do not own any of the characters, locations, or catchphrases that may or may not be found in this manuscript. What I am responsible for, however, is the wickedness I have inserted into the plotline and the distress that I have caused many of the aforesaid characters due to my ramblings and insatiable need to answer the question "what if...?" :D

*****Chapter 11: A Far Cry From Perfect*****

Lex had been truly shocked to see the news in the paper the morning following his escapades at the Daily Planet. At first, he brushed it off. Of course Clark Kent had to die. He was Superman, and Clark got shot. Superman wouldn't have died.

On the other hand, he did use kryptonite, Lex thought with a wry smile creeping across his features. It would be great, although perhaps mildly disappointing, if he really had killed Superman. Though it would have been such a shame- his last attempt had been so much more dramatic, and epic- the man deserved a somewhat more shocking death.

But surely it couldn't be the truth. Clark dead, and Superman dead, in one blow? It was too much to ask. Regardless of the fact that they were the same person.

And yet still, it had now been three days since he had shown up as either the man or the superhero.

Lex knew Clark. He knew he loved Lois more than anything else in the world- well, excepting that little bratty child of his. He should've known the second he laid eyes on the boy that this was indeed Clark's little boy. The point was, he wouldn't just give up. Three weeks earlier he had lifted an island made from kryptonite and hurled it into space even though he knew it would probably kill him- and he had survived that. Lex shrugged his shoulders- that attempt had been to kill him. The bullet clean into the shoulder was meant to incapacitate him, not kill him. Well, killing him was the ultimate goal, but you know what he meant.

Which was why he found it hard to believe.

Lois had cried very effectively, but no superhero burst forth to come to her rescue. She somehow was seriously upset over the article, though Lex assumed it was nothing but a hoax. Briefly he imagined what he would do if the superhero really was dead, and couldn't repress the smile that rushed to his lips.

Then he sobered. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be. That was too soon. It had only been three days. . . but he couldn't help feeling that if another day passed and the superhero still hadn't shown his face, he would begin to believe in miracles.

Suddenly the door burst open to the room. He shot a mildly irritated glance at the man who dared intrude on his inner musings, then noticed it was Lois's prison guard- and he had a worried look on his face.

Suddenly apprehensive, Lex turned to question him. "Yes? What is it? Has Superman shown up yet, or is he still too chicken?" _Or dead_, his subconscious added, before he crossed that thought out of his mind. No. He couldn't possibly be dead. It didn't add up. There was something else. Right?

Or maybe he would have to just own up to the fact that this victory was going to be anticlimactic.

The man hesitated before speaking. He well knew what Lex Luthor could do. "N-no, but it's Miss Lane, sir."

"What about her? Is she missing? Spit it out already!"

"She's kind of. . . having a fit. She says she refuses to eat until she can speak with you again- regardless of whether or not Superman comes for her. She's Lois Lane- and she's demanding an interview of sorts. Oh, and she also swore that she'd never cry for his help again if you didn't go talk to her."

Lex sighed. He knew Miss Lane wouild be trouble, as she was always apt to be, but so far all she had done for him was scream at him, yell at him, cry, and be stubbornly silent. The silence was the best of the four options, but he needed her cooperation if he wanted to get to Superman- to get Clark. After a moment of consideration, he came to a decision and stood up.

"Alright," he spoke slowly. "Let's give Superman a run for his money."

Walking into Lois's quarters, he was greeted with an icy stare. "Miss Lane," he greeted. "Glad to know that we're just about back on speaking terms. Are you ready to cooperate now?"

"I'll never work with you, Luthor."

"Well then, maybe Jason will. I'm sure if Superman isn't willing to rescue you, maybe he would be willing to show up for his son's sake."

Lex revelled in the flash of panic that occupied her features. She was so easy to manipulate. "You wouldn't." Her voice was a whisper, but even as she spoke the words she knew she was being ridiculous.

"I'm Lex Luthor. Of course I would."

Her eyes widened with horror. Nevermind the fact that he had absolutely no idea where her son was at the moment- a thought that reaffirmed his staunch belief that Superman really was not yet dead. He would use her fear to gain her cooperation.

"Y-you would u-use a _child_ just to get at. . . S-superman?"

He snorted. "And I thought Clark was the one who stuttered. And let's not forget, he's no ordinary kid, Lois. He's Clark Kent's son. Superman's son." He grinned. "I just love how those two names are interchangeable, don't you?"

She grew white, though whether it was with rage or fear, Lex couldn't quite be sure. "You're a monster," she whispered, barely at his hearing level. _How could anyone do such a thing? To a chiild, no less?_

Lex feigned disinterest and sighed, boredly playing with his gun as he spoke. "You know, Lois, I do have things to do- I was informed that you wanted to speak with me. If it were anybody else, I might not have wasted my breath- but for _the_ Lois Lane- Pulitzer winner, star reporter, mother of Superman's love child- how could I possibly refuse? Besides, I believe we are long overdue for an interview, and you promised your guard something along those lines, did you not?"

She positively glowered at her captor. "I only have one question for you Luthor."

"One question? Well, that surely won't do. We'll have to come up with some more, but I suppose we could fly by the seat of our pants on this one. I'm sure you- being the creative person you are- can come up with something better than "boxers or briefs". Although I imagine it was not a difficult answer to ascertain from your boyfriend." He quirked his lips at this. "Any hack reporter could have guessed that."

"He was not- is not my boyfriend!"

"Well, not yet, maybe. Although, perhaps not ever, now. How sad, really. Your relationship consisted of a one night stand and him wiping your memory. Oh, and a child he was never around to see. Gosh, it seems like Superman's been a little loose with his mantra lately. "Truth, justice. . ." and all that jazz. Isn't it ironic?"

The smile that played on his lips only served to infuriate Lois further. If there were any projectiles within her range, he was positive she would have thrown them at him with no amount of mildness. But that, and the fact that she was securely fastened to a chair, prevented her from causing him any physical harm. After struggling to get free and attack him for several moments, she finally gave in. With a glare, she asked her question. "Why? Why do you hate Clark, or Superman, so much? What prompted all this?"

His eyes flashed with a hot rage. "Why? Let's start with Clark Kent, shall we? Why that brilliant kid- my best friend, no less- was able to cheat his way to the top of his class with his powers, beat me to a scholarship- which he afterwards refused!-, how he stole my girlfriend, and then I stole her back, and then how he kept claiming that we grew apart because _I_ had changed, because _I_ was the one who wasn't normal! Because of what the drugs made me! And instead of helping, he abandoned me, left me on my own- only come to find out, he really didn't! You want to know why, Miss Lane? Huh?

"Because Superman found me! Granted, he wasn't exactly Superman at the time, not with the entire ensemble and whatnot. He said he was trying to save me- but I didn't want to be saved. So when my parents died, and I inheritted all their money, and aligned myself with other wealthy people, and after I discovered just how real Superman was- that he wasn't some biproduct of the drugs or my mind- I decided to take him down. When he continually sent me to prison and foiled my plans, it became even more personal. When I learned he was my ex-best friend, Clark Joseph Kent- it took the game to a whole new level. And when I found out he had an old flame- and she'd had a kid that looked mysteriously a lot like Clark Kent did as a kid- it became too easy. It was unbelievable- and he just flies around, pretending he's perfect. He's a far cry from perfect, Miss Lane. You of all people should know that! Look at all of the mistakes he made with you!"

Lois cut off his rantings and ravings there with a cold glare and an icy- no, steely edge to her tone. "Let's get one thing straight, Luthor. Jason was not a mistake. And Superman- as either Clark or the hero- would never, despite what you may think of him, stoop so low as to do any of the things you've done. You, Luthor, are a maniac, as what you've told me only proves. You are the furthest thing from perfect- you're the devil incarnate! And it will be a warm day on Krypton before I _ever_ listen to you or do as you tell me."

Lex Luthor squared his jaw firmly, and a steely look came into his eyes. For a moment, she thought that Lex should have been the one given the nickname "man of steel," since it fit him so much better. Or perhaps man of ice.

"So be it."

With that he stalked out of the room, leaving Lois to wonder if she had only made their situation worse.

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N:** Yay! I know, it was short, but necessary to move the story forward. . . Also, note that once again, I am NOT following the Smallville concept of Clark/Lex relationship, I am creating my own idea of what they're previous friendship was like. I am blissfully unaware of what happened on the show, and anything that may seem similar or dissimilar to it I can take no blame for. The disclaimer holds true for all this. I've no idea what happened on the show, but I think it would be cool if this is what happened :)

More to come! Read and Review, and next time you hear a sonic boom go past your house, know that it's Clark thanking you for your feedback!


	12. Chapter 12: Inception and Deception

**A/N:** Okay, let me warn you: I am in a dark mood right now. But when you read this: Don't. Freak. Out. It's all part of a major plan. I _am_ actually going somewhere with this, and in all seriousness, it needed to be done. *cries* then *wails loudly and flings arms up in protest* **I'm so sorry, Clark!** I fully expect to be flamed for this, but don't give up on me! This story's not over yet- far from it! This is just the beginning! So before any of you remove me or this story from your favorite's list, just know that THIS IS NOT THE END! Dont hate me for this. There will be more, and I will try to fix this!

**Disclaimer:** Yep. I don't own anything. Except the evil plotline. That's right. I torture other people's creations for my own sick pleasure. You're welcome.

*****Chapter Twelve: Inception and Deception*****

He heard the screams tonight. The cries for help, the cries of the distraught, the general mayhem around the world. And yet, once again, he was powerless to help them. In a figurative sense, anyway.

Clark gritted his teeth and flopped onto his other side in his bed. For a moment, he wished he didn't have his powers again, so he could just remain blissfully ignorant of the problems going on in the world. But instead he was in his bed at the farm, with his mother making her rounds, watching the locked door and window like a hawk. He groaned. He loved his mother, but surely she was being a little paranoid? And even if he did go, it wouldn't be such a big deal. Why couldn't he go now? Why all of the deception?

_You brought this upon yourself, idiot._ His subconscious mind once again exposing the harsh truth to the rest of his mind. _You're the one who comes up with all the lies in the first place. Even after Lois and Jimmy and Perry and Richard, you still had to weave some story for Luthor's sake. What's wrong with you? Are you allergic to the truth or something? What's _with_ you and all the deception?_

_Superman doesn't lie._

_Liar. You're lying right now,_ his subconscious shot back.

_Shut up_, he told himself bitterly.

_Make me._

_Idiot!_

He slapped his hand over his face. What good did arguing with himself do anyone? It was ridiculous. He needed to focus and get some sleep. Sleep. _Sleep!_

Only he didn't feel that tired- on a normal day he only needed a few hours of sleep- and that was when he worked two jobs and saved the world on a regular basis. Now that he had his powers back, he felt completely re-energized. Today had been nothing like any of the days where he felt like he actually needed to go home and get some rest. Today-

Today he had re-plastered and painted his mother's dining room in a matter of minutes. Today, he had taken his son for a brief flight around the world. He had thrown the ball too far for Shelby to chase, and worked in the fields for a few hours. Basically, he had done nothing exhausting.

At that precise moment he yawned- _you traitor_, his mind thought. He scowled and firmly shut his eyes. No more. He had to sleep. He needed every ounce of strength he could to bring down Luthor, once and for all. That man wouldn't get away with this. . . him and his stupid bald head. And his stupid kryptonite. Clark always knew he'd never liked Luthor. Even when they were friends, they acted more like competitors. In days long gone now.

Somewhere in between his delusional thinking about Luthor's ugly bald head and what their friendship used to be like, he heard _it_. That's right. He heard The cry. Her cry.

"Clark!" Lois's voice rang out in his head, followed by a scream of terror.

His blue eyes snapped open, instantly alert and panic-filled. As though they had never been shut. "Lois?"

Before he recognized even what he was doing, he was up and out of bed, following the sound of Lois's terror-filled voice. He must have broken through the window this time, but he didn't hear any noises coming from the farmhouse, so he assumed his mother had missed him. He was going too fast. The world blurred, the only sure thing to guide him onwards being Lois's cry, which now felt too long past when he last heard it.

In less than a second, he was there in the room with her. And with Lex Luthor.

Lex arched an eyebrow at Clark's hasty entrance and sneered as he looked him up and down. "What, no time to change, Superman?" He gestured towards the Batman pajama bottoms and the white undershirt with a slight smile. Clark merely ignored him with a glare and surveyed the situation.

To his horror, Lois was in Luthor's firm grasp. Much like she had been back at the Planet, with the gun pressed to her temple, and a look of both panic and recognition in her eyes. Lex's face was twisted into a sick grin. Talk about deja vu.

Clark felt his heart plummet and his stomach wrench in one swift motion. _No, it can't happen this way. Not now. Not again._ He felt his throat close up. "Luthor," his voice sounded incredibly dry to his super-sensitive ears. "Let her go. Now"

"Ha! Really? That's your plan? You play dead for three days and all you can come up with is 'let her go'? That's almost as ridiculous as Clark Kent being Superman." The smirk did not mask the hate in the bald man's eyes. Clark suppressed the urge to shudder.

"Luthor, you know very well what I'm capable of doing- and the only person who might know better, besides my mother, is standing right there in your arms. Now please, let Lois go, and I might decide to spare you your life. If you don't I can't guarantee that I'll play fair."

The villain dared quirk his lips at him. "But Clarkie-boy," he began, "You know as well as I do that it's a whole different ballgame when there's Kryptonite involved." He laughed at Clark's horror-stricken expression. "What? Did you not have a plan B?"

A small voice rang out behind him- one he knew quite well- sending chills running down Clark's spine. _No. . ._

"Daddy?"

_Daddy? When did he figure that out?_ He chastised himself. _Gee, Clark, maybe somewhere in between throwing the piano and hearing conversations from 100 miles away._ Suddenly though it felt as though all of his secrets were exposed. He had nothing left to hold on to- no stability, nothing to fall back on. Why Clark needed the lies to fall back on, he wasn't sure, but he recognized in this moment above all others exactly what purpose they served for him. Now it was too late. He had no upper hand, no cards to play. Nothing stood between him and the rest of the world.

Clark's heart sank further at the realization that his son was here. His son had followed him- followed him here of all places, to Lex Luthor's hideout. And now Clark had gone and jeopardized everything he cared about.

"Ooh, now this is interesting," Lex mused, his sickening grin growing exponentially. "A little family reunion."

"Let them go, Lex. It's me you want." Even while speaking them, the words felt trite. He knew the response his words would encounter before they had even left his mouth.

Luthor snorted. "You think that's all I want? No, I want to bring a god to his knees; I want him to be begging for mercy from me, knowing I hold his life and the people that make up his life in my hands; I want to make you suffer for all that you've done."

"I'm not a god, Luthor. You should know that by now. I'm not perfect.

"Oh, I'm well aware of that. That doesn't mean you escape punishment for pretending to be one. That you don't need to suffer for all that you've done."

"_What_ have I done to deserve this?" he felt more than heard his voice crack.

"You know very well what it is you've done, Kent."

"No, I really don't- please, enlighten me, Lex."

He seemed to consider his offer for a moment. Then the smile- that hideous, evil, frustrating smile- returned to play on his lips.

"No."

The world seemed to slow down just enough to the point of where Clark could see everything happening but was helpless to stop it. What good was superspeed when you found yourself frozen to the spot? Some part of his brain registered the shift in the gun's target, but not in time. By the time he realized the gun was trained on his son- realized the magnitude of what was about to happen- the bullet had already fired. He was too late.

He heard his son's cry and raced to him, only in time to catch his falling body. "NOOOOOO!" He heard his voice screaming as though it were separate from his body, no longer under his control. _No, no, no nononono. . ._ "No! Jason, no this can't be happening. Come on Jason, please. I can't lose you, please, Jason. Your daddy needs you- I love you." _Why? Why couldn't he have invulnerability before hearing? Why did Luthor have to kill him? No, no, no, no, no. . ._ Clark felt the tears flowing freely, oblivious to everything else going on in the room around him, his grief consuming him.

But no amount of tears would bring his son back from the dead.

Lois's voice was screaming too, he realized. At first, he thought it was from the horror of seeing their son get shot and die. _Oh, god- die. . ._ But as he realized the screams weren't stopping, he forced himself to tear his eyes from his son's cold, limp body and the puddle of blood surrounding him, and turn to Lois.

His eyes practically bulged out of his head at the sight.

Lois had crumpled to the ground, something the likes of a dagger protruding from her side, blood pooling up around her, Lex watching him with a sick gleam in his eye.

The dagger was green.

"LOIS!" he shouted, leaving his son's body only to draw closer to his love's. She was whimpering in pain, and appeared to be trying to speak. "Lois, please, please- you can't both leave me, please." He was begging now, with no control over his tear ducts. The hollow ache in his gut worsened at the close proximity to kryptonite.

Gently he lowered his lips down to meet hers and planted a soft kiss on hers.

The pain nearly doubled.

Groaning, he grasped his head at the increasingly painful headache. "L-Luthor," he croaked, but it was a weak attempt.

Like he had said back at the island-same tone, same strangely hollow, echoing sound that didn't now seem to fit with his surroundings- he answered Clark's unspoken question with one word. "Krrrrrrryyyyptonite!" he declared proudly. "Only this time, you basically killed yourself. I'm thinking about patenting it, calling it, "The Reverse Sleeping Beauty"- or something like that. Kryptonite was in her bloodstream long before you got here. Your son was a lucky hit. Lois I killed because she was shrieking in my ear- and because I wanted to see you in pain. And now you- you will die, knowing that this is all your fault, Clark Joseph Kent."

Luthor's hideous laugh morphed in his mind into something unnatural sounding and mechanical. With a fierce pain and a loud scream, Clark embraced what he knew to be the end.

"No," he shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice coming out in the form of a hoarse whisper. "No, god, no, no, no- this can't be happening. This isn't real. I can't lose them."

Luthor managed to hear his words despite their low tone. "You would go so far as to sacrifice yourself for them- but not them for the rest of the world? Selfish, foolish, idealistic Clark. Your father warned you against this. Attachment. For shame, Clark, you disobeyed direct orders. And whose fault is that? Mine? You do all these things wrong, and then you dare to point your finger at Lex Luthor? No. You have no one to blame but yourself, for becoming too attached, for open yourself up to pain. Whose fault is it that your son is dead? Whose fault that Lois is dying? And you're next? How does it feel to know that this is all your doing? Hmm?" Clark could hear the cockiness in his voice. But he knew it; Lex knew it; and soon everyone would know it.

Lex Luthor was right.

A scream, a real one this time, throttled him and erupted from the depths of agony within him. He mourned not for himself, but for his loved ones. He cried for the world and what was to become of it without him- _perhaps it'd be better off_. And he screamed for the one man he swore he'd never lose to again. But his screams wouldn't change anything, because of one terrible, truthful reason.

_Lex was right._

_*****_Act Drop_*****_

**A/N: **MWAHAHAHAHA! ! ! I know. . . I'm slightly (and by that I mean more than slightly) evil. I'm sorry. That was a CLIFFHANGER OF EPIC PROPORTIONS! (yes, that's meant to be all caps. . . it's the title of something of this magnitude) DON'T GIVE UP ON ME! I'm a romantic at heart, wait for me to come around. . . also, if you're observant, you'll pick up on some tell-tale hints throughout. . . XD All I can tell you is: read between the lines. . . or above the chapter. . . between the disclaimer and the actual writing. . . between five asterisks on either side. . . (obvious enough?)

**Please Read and Review! **Although I can't promise Clark will respond with autographs or air-kisses this time. . . we're not exactly on speaking terms right now. Not after this chapter. Though I think he'll forgive me next chapter. :)


	13. Chapter 13: Wreckage

**A/N:** All I can say here is. . . please don't hate me! I apologize in advance for any misconceptions I gave about the last chapter! Please read, I swear things will work out in the end!

**Disclaimer:** I don't. . . own. . . oh, for god's sakes! Just read this already!

*****Chapter Thirteen: Wreckage*****

Clark was dying.

There was no denying it. Jason was dead. Lois was dead. She was stabbed with kryptonite, and somehow Lex had managed to get kryptonite into her bloodstream- probably through some sort of form of liquid kryptonite. . . it was no good thinking about it. He had kissed her, and she was completely infused with the deadly substance. Now, between Luthor's tortures and the effects of the kryptonite, he was a dead man- er, Kryptonian.

Luthor's foot connected with his jaw this time. Clark was powerless to stop it, and felt as well as heard the sickening crunch.

His son would never get a chance to know he was his real father. Lois would never know how he really felt about her. He would never get the chance to tell her that he loved her. And now, Clark had no doubt that Luthor would expose to the world that he was Superman.

Clark tasted blood in his mouth and promptly spat it out, coughing it up onto the floor. But it was no use.

Lex loomed over him, a sick gleam in his eyes and a grin pulling at his lips. "I guess this is the end for you, Clark, Kal'El, Superman- whoever you are. So long."

He didn't even recognize the next blow that hit him. His world had gone black.

*****S*****

Martha bolted upright in her chair at the sound of the crash. "Uh-oh," she muttered, her heart in a flutter. "That can't be good." She ran quickly up the stairs stragiht up to her son's room, ignoring who got up and followed in her wake.

She burst into his room and her heart dropped.

Ben's voice from behind her startled her. "HOLY CRAP!"

Martha felt the reaction was justified. The wreckage- which was the only thing you could call it- was incredible. There was a gaping hole in the wall where the window at one point was, and several other things were smashed to pieces or had large holes torn into them. To say Clark's sleep had been fitful would have been the understatement of the century. It would have been more accurate to say he went ten rounds in the boxing ring with Mike Tyson- without powers.

Then the second realization, coming nearly as fast as the fact that her son had just destroyed her house, hit her.

Clark was gone.

Martha fought back the rising surge of panic that flooded her. He wouldn't have disobeyed her. . . not directly. . . ok, so maybe he would. But so soon after just getting his powers back? That seemed immature. . . rash. . . reckless. . . he was helpless to the circumstances around him. . . that sounded like so. . . so Clark. She sighed. Would she ever get that boy to think logically, instead of throwing himself into the line of fire every time someone was in trouble? He got especially thoughtless when these things concerned Lois Lane- there was the first time when he gave up his powers for her, then practically killing himself with that island of kryptonite, and now this.

She was about to turn to leave when she saw Jason standing there curiously. Martha bent down to his level. "Sweetie, what are you doing up? You're going home again in the morning- you only have about two hours until you've gotta get up." Richard and Perry had decided to leave, show their faces at the Planet once more, just in case people got suspicious, and besides, they needed to check to see what the police learned about Lois, if anything.

"Where's Mister Clark?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching. She knew those motions well from Clark- it was signifying he was awake, and not returning to sleep anytime soon. She sighed, longing for the day when she could call this boy her grandson and tell him all of his daddy's stories. . . but she didn't know when, if ever, she would get that chance.

"Well, I don't quite know, sweetie. He does that sometimes. To go save the world, you know."

Jason smiled slightly at this, then frowned once again. He cocked his head gently, listening to something in the distance. Then his eyes widened. "Mommy," he muttered, growing white. Martha's heart dropped. _Oh, God no. Please, that would be the worst. Jason needs his mommy; Clark needs Lois. Don't let him hear, at least. . ._ "He's shouting her name. He's looking for her. . ." Jason squinted into the distance, through the gaping hole in the wall. Then he gasped, grabbing onto Martha's arm briefly. "Whoa. He's. . . he's not that far, really." Then a confused look occupied his features. "Right? Wait, I don't see him anymore. Where is he, Martha? Where'd he go?" The boy screwed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth, then covering his ears as he heard Clark's voice echoing through his head once again, though he couldn't quite make out what he said.

Martha's heart broke to see him like this. She glanced up at Ben and saw his sympathetic stare. He knew as well as she did what this situation could end up like if they went about this the wrong way. Clark couldn't afford to be rash and reckless anymore. He had a son, a son who desperately needed his help. It was hard enough having to go through everything once with Clark- Jason obviously had some more traumatic experiences going on in his life than Clark had at his age. She pulled him into a warm embrace, which the boy returned heartily, though with a melancholy spirit.

Finally he sniffed. "He's not really that far, Martha."

"I'm sure he's not- for you, Jason. But I'd have to drive a long ways, or maybe even take a flight out, before I could find him."

"No you wouldn't." He sounded very sure of himself, and rocked on the balls of his feet confidently.

"I wouldn't?" she tried to hide her confusion through her amusement.

"Nuh-huh. He's still in Smallville."

Martha's gut wrenched at that moment. If Clark had ran out and was still in Smallville. . . then that meant Luthor was probably here, too, along with Lois. "What do you mean?" she asked the boy, her voice barely even a whisper. Luckily, Jason didn't need any repetition.

He smiled slightly. "He's in town, at the. . . feed store? I think that's what the sign said." He shrugged lightly. "Come on. Let's go."

Before Martha could respond, she found herself being dragged along behind the five year old boy, until they reached the pickup truck. Martha had to go back in the house to grab her keys before returning to an almost petulant Jason. "Come _on_, hurry up!" He was practically bouncing up and down. She glanced at him worriedly- he seemed a little bit too jittery. "Come on, Martha, he's this way, let's go, come on-" he broke off suddenly, eyes wide as he listened. He gasped. "Mister Clark!"

Only that last word seemed to stretch off into eternity as suddenly Jason was gone in a burst of speed. Martha whitened. She couldn't lose everyone all at once- especially not him. Not her grandson. She jumped into the truck and floored it, heading off to the feedstore at top speeds.

*****S*****

The second Martha pulled up to the feedstore, she felt her heart drop. It's outward appearance nearly made her cringe, and she ran towards the front entrance.

The storefront looked perfectly normal. Except the door was a little bit off its hinges. If it had been completely recked, she could have reasoned that Clark still had his powers, that he had torn the place down in an effort to locate Lois Lane- and to beat Lex Luthor. The fact that the building was even still standing scared her half to death.

She burst inside, at first seeing nothing in the dim lighting. _Please don't let it be too late. . ._ suddenly her view cleared to see a very puzzled looking Jason. She pulled him into a tight embrace the moment she saw him. "Oh, honey, don't you ever do that to me again! You could have very nearly given me a heart attack! Are you alright?" She held him at arm's length, examining him. He appeared fine to all outward appearances.

He was about to respond when they both heard a scream. Martha'a head snapped up as she was confronted with the sight of her grandson's confusion.

In the middle of the aisle was Clark Kent, in his bedclothes, slumping over onto the floor, on his hands and knees.

"Clark!" his mother shouted and promptly ran up to him.

She shook his large form and he collapsed onto the ground. "Clark? Oh, God, no. Clark, what's wrong? What's going on? Are you alright?"

"Mm. . . no Lex, don't. . . Lois. . ." Clark mumbled before his bright blue eyes finally opened, looking more panicked than anything. ". . . Ma?"

"It's alright, Clark. What happened?"

A funny look came across Clark's face, as he scrunched it up, then suddenly spat out some blood. Martha couldn't keep the horror out of her expression as her son looked up at her. "Wh-where's Jason? Or Lois? And Luthor?" Suddenly Clark's eyes found Jason's and there were no words for the amount of emotion in his gaze. "Oh, thank god," Clark breathed. He pulled himself up and quickly made his way over to his son, enveloping him in a giant, warm embrace- one which seemed to last forever. Clark took in his son's form as he held him in his arms, his smell, his warmth- all as if memorizing his entire person. Clark felt tears threatening to spill over, and he didn't care right now to hold them back. He openly weeped, practically trembling against his son's body. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, wishing to erase the sight of his son dying from his mind's eye.

Jason appeared confused still, but didn't complain, thinking it would upset Superman even further. He hugged him back. "It's alright, Mr. Clark. I'm right here."

Martha's heart swelled at once with both pride and sadness. He really was such a sweet, endearing little boy. No wonder he was Clark's son.

Finally, Clark pulled away, his face tearstained and his expression relieved. "I'd thought I'd lost you."

"Don't be silly, Mr. Clark. You're the one who ran away. I'm not lost at all."

At that Clark genuinely smiled. Martha shook her head. "Come on, you two. Let's get back to the farmhouse before anything else goes wrong here."

*****S*****

Clark sat at the kitchen table with his mother, staring blankly into his cup of coffee. Jimmy sat across from them, watching the contemplative silence and feeling quite mystified. Ben Hubbard was out getting some supplies for the repairs that needed to be done to the house. Richard, Jason and Perry had just took off for Metropolis, despite all Clark's urgings not to go- especially for poor Jason. After Clark's very realistic nightmare, he had a hard time letting him go back to the big city without always hanging around the boy.

Jimmy decided to break the ice. "So. . . so much for "Clark doesn't do anything in his sleep except snore," right?" His tone was humorous, but his eyes showed more than a little apprehension.

Martha smiled tautly. "Yeah, well, usually. I guess I didn't give him enough credit. This time he ended up sleep talking, walking, fighting and flying. Not really a normal occurence for him, if you'd ask me."

Clark massaged his jaw where he had somehow managed to punch himself in his sleep, causing him to bite his tongue and bleed in his mouth. "Yeah, I don't think I've had a nightmare like that in. . . a very long time. Years, in fact. And I don't ever remember becoming violent towards myself or jeopardizing my identity by leaving the house. This was. . . entirely new for me." He fell back into silence, thinking back on it. Now that he knew it was a dream, he was able to pinpoint certain areas of his dream that were unrealistic. For example, Jason calling him Daddy. And then there was the fact that the majority of the things in his dreams were from twisted versions of what had already happened in reality. Lex Luthor beating him up, shouting "kryptonite," and Clark's feeling of falling he got after he'd kissed Lois. . . he shuddered.

Martha placed a hand consolingly on his shoulder. "Clark, it was only a dream."

He sighed. "I know, Ma. It's just. . . I realized everything now. How stupid I've been. . . how I should have handled the situation better. How easily Luthor can manipulate me if he wants to. I mean, I have no plan, as of now. At any moment, I could be forced to fly over and stand down Luthor, and I couldn't behave any differently than I did in my dream. Do you know how awful it was?" A haunted look entered into his features. "I can't lose them, Ma. I just can't. I thought that maybe I would be content to just step out of their lives, let Lois live with Richard in peace, raise Jason as their own. But I don't know that I can do that anymore. I need them. . . too much."

Martha merely nodded. Jimmy Olsen wisely refrained from speaking. A melancholy sort of silence set in among the threesome, and Clark hoped that- assuming they all made it out of this alive- this wouldn't be the end for his relationship with Lois and his son.

*****Act Drop*****

**A/N:** Haha! My author's note at the beginning fooled you all! Just like Clark' glasses had you all fooled for a while there too. . . yeah. Okay, so no more dream sequences. I couldn't resist that one though. Not to say I won't cause any more havoc and destruction in Clark's life. . . .

Read and Review, Please! The more reviews I get, the better reminded I am to get back to writing this story, and the less suspenseful waiting periods you'll have!


	14. Chapter 14: Plans

**A/N:** For those readers out there that have been waiting... Sorry it's been awhile! Real life has hit me at full force, not to mention I'm CRAZY swamped with studying for AP exams... so all in all, don't expect me to be udating anything too quickly right now. If I do, please politely tell me to GET OFF THE COMPUTER AND GET TO WORK! (politely, i said. . . .) ANyways, this is **really** short. Just wanted something to get me going back on this story, slowly wean myself back into this. I don't want to abandon you completely!

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own anything. I'm starting to think Warner Bros. and DC are just trashing my letters entirely. :)

*****Chapter 14: Plans*****

Lois awoke in an unfamiliar setting, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. _Where am I?_ She sat up, surveying her surroundings with curiosity when she felt the barrel of a gun shove into her back. Suddenly it all rushed back to her- kidnapped, taken away, Clark dead, Superman not coming. . .

Wait.

"Luthor, where are we? What happened to that dingy little makeshift prison cell you had me in that was oh-so-accommodating?"

"Quiet," he hissed sharply, prodding her in the back once more. She did as requested. "We, Miss Lane, are trying something new."

Lois's heartbeat increased as she took in her surroundings. Her hair was windswept, and one of the goons was staying a safe distance away from the edge. . . "Are we on the top of a building?"

"Precisely, Miss Lane. Goodness, what a clever girl you are!" He overemphasized and rolled his eyes sarcastically.

Lois struggled against the bonds that held her tied to firmly to the chair, but her efforts were beyond futile. "What exactly is it that you are planning on doing with me? And on the roof of a building? Where is that going to get you? You know Superman could fly-"

"Right again, Lois! I'll give you one more guess, and then I'll give you the big monologue about what it is I'm planning on doing. Sound like a deal?"

Lois shot him an icy glare, taking in her surroundings briefly. She noticed several people- Lex's goons, she assumed- attaching wires and modifying equipment all the way around the rooftop. "Well, I think I can safely assume that you haven't taken up a second job at the cable company. So I'm going to guess that this has something to do with trapping Superman and/or throwing me off of the roof."

"Three for three! You're on a roll. Should I just let you explain to me my entire spiel as well, or can I talk now?" She stared back at him in stony silence. "Alright then. Yes, this is a ploy for Superman, and yes, it may involve you falling from a seventy story high-rise. But let me explain the details for you, cause that's where the true genius of this plan lies." He took her by the chin and forcefully directed her head to the work going on around her. "You see what they're all doing? Running wires all around the place and whatnot- they're really going to tap into all of the feeds to the major networks and broadcast everything that happens, live, via television- thanks to several discreetly placed cameras throughout the surrounding area, and no small amount of ingenuity from myself. Then, no matter what the outcome, I'll at least be able to have some control over the situation. Sound like fun?" He dropped her head with more than the needed amount of strength as he stalked off smugly, glancing back with a wicked smile.

Lois's glare did not lighten up. "And I suppose you think that really matters? Because you know he's going to defeat you anyways, and then all your hard work will have been for nothing. What do you have to say about that?"

Lex turned around, and merely grinned sickeningly. "I say that when you play poker, sometimes it's best to actually _have_ all the cards. You see, Clark, Superman, whatever you want to call him, lost his high ground. He _had_ a secret identity to hide behind. He _had_ his family safely and securely tucked away. He _had_ your love, and he _had_ control over his son. All he actually _has_ left is his superpowers- and even that's shaky when there's my favorite green rock around."

"How much more of that damn kryptonite can you have?" Lois mumbled.

"Well, ever since the whole incident with- what was it you named it? Ah, that's right. "New Krypton". A bit euphemistic, don't you think? Maybe it's just ironic- but anyways. Ever since then, kryptonite has been rather easy to come by. In fact, I'm thinking of introducing a new jewelry line with it: a multi-faceted emerald with a super-death cut. You like the sound of it?"

Her scowl spoke otherwise. Luthor shrugged. "It's a work in progress. Tell me if you come up with something better."

Lois finally spoke again- carefully, slowly. "And what makes you think he'll come? What if," she swallowed, trying to convince herself it wasn't true. "What if he really is dead? What if he physically can't make it?"

Luthor pursed his lips as he thought of it briefly. She voiced his worst fears and greatest hopes at once- that Clark Kent really was dead. He didn't allow himself to believe that option. "Then, I guess I'll just end up killing you either way. So it doesn't really matter, now, does it?"

Lois shut her mouth then. She didn't know which was worse: that Clark might really be dead, and she might be heading to her own doom, or the fact that if he wasn't he would be walking into a trap that would get himself killed anyways. She was crossed every which way she turned.

_Crap._

_*****_Act Drop_*****_

**A/N: **There you go folks! Tell me what you think- and by the way, I'm open to other ideas! Anything to get the creative juices flowing, so REVIEW! :D


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